


The Red Rose and the White

by NeedTheDark



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Elizabeth is a 14 yr old princess, F/M, Kings and Queens, Raymond is a 40-something yr old King, Smut, The year is 1485, Tom Keen is always a villain, Tudor England, Tudors!, Underage sex (medieval style)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-05-27 23:10:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15035366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeedTheDark/pseuds/NeedTheDark
Summary: Raymond Tudor has defeated his enemy, the tyrant King Alexander. He has avenged the deaths of his wife and child, and he will be king of England, restoring peace to the land. England lies in his grasp, but for one thing: the tyrant king's daughter, the precocious 14-year-old Lady Elizabeth, has challenged him for throne. Time is not on his side, and Raymond must decide whether to execute the beautiful young princess, or risk his crown and his country to save her.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Major age-gap and underage sex ahead here - it's appropriate for the time period in which this is set (1480's) but turn back now if this isn't your thing. Generally speaking, this is a fun, historical Lizzington fic. The work is complete and will be updated more or less weekly. Enjoy!

**1485, the Battle of Bosworth Field**

 

Raymond Tudor stood in his great tent, the scent and sounds of battle fresh in the air. He looked down at his hands, the blood of his enemy the tyrant King Alexander still a fresh stain on his palms. It was a day that would go down in legend. He had waged a bitter campaign against the cruel monarch, sailed the deepest oceans in exile, and after long years he had finally cut down the man who had pillaged the lands of England and taken all Raymond had from him. He had avenged the deaths of his beloved wife and child all those years ago. He had taken the crown. He would be king.

He looked up slowly into the looking glass in the tent to observe his battle-worn visage. At over forty he was no longer a young man, and his face was lined with grief and hardship. His chainmail was stained with blood and sweat and it chafed painfully across his expanding belly. His shield bore his mark – the Red Rose of the House of Lancaster – and it too seemed to be bleeding. He was utterly spent and yet his quest was just beginning; in removing the cruel king he had set himself the daunting task of restoring peace to the land. He stared darkly at his reflection and tried to steel himself for the burden of the crown.

His private thoughts were disrupted suddenly as his most trusted advisors burst into the tent, loud and joyous, high from their victory.

“Raymond the Victor!” whooped Lord Gerard. “Raymond the Great!”

“Raymond, oh most benevolent king of England” said Lord Grey, his smile twinkling. “This is a great day indeed. The white rose of the house of York has turned red.”

“My lords I owe you a great debt for the service you have done me” Raymond told them earnestly. “England would have been lost without you.”

Grey clapped him on the shoulder. “Come Raymond, why so serious? You have won, my friend, in the eyes of God and man. Your forebears wore the crown. Tomorrow we ride to the Palace of Westminster and announce you as the new and rightful king. We can expect little resistance – the tyrant York king was hated and feared by all.”

Raymond nodded thoughtfully. “And what of his daughter?”

“Princess Elizabeth” said Gerard slowly. “By all accounts, a young girl as terrified of her father as the rest of the land. She is likely not a threat to you.”

“Threat?” scoffed Grey. “Raymond has conquered a great army today – he’ll have no threat from a little girl” he laughed.

“In seriousness, Raymond” Gerard said gently. “She is still the old king’s daughter. The last of her line. What have you planned for her?”

Raymond remained silent for a moment, working his jaw. “What do we know of her?”

“All we have is from a spy we have in the castle, a good friar who tends to the princess’s spiritual needs.” Gerard told him. “By his account she is a small girl, studious, and much cut off from the world. The king kept her locked in the palace, and the friar believed he treated her very ill.”

Raymond’s jaw tightened as he took in Gerard’s account. “He beat her” he said hollowly.

“I believe so my lord” Gerard responded sombrely, and Raymond felt a pang in his chest as he was reminded of his own little girl so cruelly murdered on the orders of the tyrant king.

“The sins of the father should not fall upon the child” he proclaimed firmly. “She’ll have nothing but goodwill from me. I’ll see to her education if she enjoys her books. And when she is old enough to wed we’ll find a suitable match if she so chooses.”

“If she chooses?” spluttered Grey. “She is a valuable bargaining tool, Raymond, you must think very carefully about who you invite to share her bed!”

Raymond’s lip twitched in distaste. “You get ahead of yourself” he chastised, frowning. “She is but a child.”

Grey shrugged and took a deep sip of wine from his goblet. “This is a glum conversation indeed for a day of celebration” he chuckled. “Think not of the girl, Raymond. Give thanks that the old bastard had no sons to challenge you and let’s be on our way – to London, and to victory!”

* * *

 

The great palace of Westminster was even grander than Raymond remembered. Grey had been right; there was no resistance as his army rode through London, though the fear and confusion was evident on the faces of those subjects who dared to step onto the streets to watch the army pass. The great hall of the palace itself was a more welcoming sight, with many noble lords and ladies who had supported his campaign against the tyrant king come out to celebrate his victory. He greeted them with the enthusiasm due for their belief and support, and prepared himself for the time where his compatriots would kneel before him as he was crowned king.

Suddenly the jubilant crowd fell quiet, a few whispered murmurs alerting Raymond that Princess Elizabeth had entered the great hall. He turned and looked with interest at the child as she was escorted by his guards down the length of the cavernous room towards him. His eyebrows raised slightly in surprise as she approached; she was still a girl, yes, but older than he had imagined and he realised immediately that the vision he’d had of his enemy’s daughter was not accurate at all.

She wore an attractive pale blue gown which she had begun to fill out with the gentle curve of budding breasts. Her golden brown hair tumbled loosely over her shoulders in soft waves, but as she approached it was her eyes that made his breath catch; they were large and blue as the ocean he loved, framed by long, delicate lashes.

His reverie was broken as Lord Grey leaned over to him. “The good friar failed to mention that the white rose bud had blossomed” he muttered sardonically. “Perhaps religion has made him blind to such things.”

Raymond smiled politely as the party reached the dais. “Even men of God are capable of appreciating great beauty, Grey” he murmured.

As Raymond stepped forward to greet the young princess he saw a glimmer of apprehension and fear in her eyes, and felt a stab of regret for the pain he would cause her.

He lowered himself to an elegant bow that belied his many years as a soldier. “Lady Elizabeth” he said softly. “Do you know me?”

She stared up at him, containing her fear admirably. “You are Raymond Tudor, disgraced Duke of Lancaster.”

“Have a care, girl” Grey chastised immediately, but Raymond laughed softly.

“Bless me, that’s quite a title. Perhaps just Raymond will do for now.”

The girl regarded him sceptically. “You are my father’s enemy.”

“He’s your father’s executioner!” Grey snapped, his temper flaring.

The girl gasped and Raymond closed his eyes in frustration and regret. This was not how he had wanted to tell her.

He stepped forward in case she would faint, but she held fast, her complexion pale and her eyes impossibly round.

“My lady, your father fell in battle defending his crown” he told her gently. “It was a noble death. And I regret the manner of your finding out” he said pointedly as Grey stood testily at his side.

She seemed almost not to hear him, and stood in silence for a long moment.

“My father is dead” she whispered finally, her deep blue eyes shimmering. “Then I am queen of England.”

An angry murmur rippled through the assembled crowd, and Raymond stilled, his eyes sharpening as he observed the small girl standing so defiantly in front of him.

Lord Grey stepped forward then, his hand at his sword. “ _Treason_ ” he hissed. “It is treason, my lord!”

Raymond put his hand up, abruptly silencing his lieutenant while his eyes remained fixed on the girl. He instantly recognised the danger in which she had placed herself, the tension rising rapidly in the room. He had to contain it, and quickly.

He took another step towards her so that he now stood as close to her as was proper. Although she wasn’t short, he dwarfed her with his impressive stature.

“How old are you child?” he asked softly.

“Fourteen” she replied looking up at him, and for a moment he noted an attractive blush in her cheeks.

“I see. The crown of England would weigh heavy on the head of any grown man” he told her in low, gravelly tones. “Are you sure that you want it?”

The young princess looked about her uncertainly, aware that the hostile eyes of the crowd were settled on her, and then looked back to the imposing man who stood before her.

“Sir, I am sure that I do _not_ want it” she said slowly. “But I cannot choose whether or not to rule. I was born to it, ordained by God. My father was King. He is gone, and God help me I am his only child. I am queen. And _you_ are the traitor who killed my father” she finished in fiery tones.

Raymond paled in shock as he listened to her, the crowd erupting in anger again such that he knew he would not be able to contain them much longer.

“Out of the mouths of babes” he murmured. He nodded regretfully then and turned to Grey. “Take her to the tower.”

He winced inwardly as a small whimper of fear broke through her valiant façade, but stood firm as Grey escorted the struggling child through the jeering crowd and away to the tower where many royals had awaited their fate before her.

When she was gone from his sight, he beckoned Gerrard and leaned in with a low voice to ensure that he was not overheard.

“Marvyn, I’m entrusting you to see that she is not harmed in any way. See to her comfort. Go to her chambers and remove her things to the tower for the duration of her stay – and please remind the guards that, though a prisoner, she should be treated with the respect and honor due to a noble lady of this land.”

Lord Gerard listened carefully and nodded his understanding. “It shall be done, my lord” he said with a bow, before leaving to carry out his compassionate mission.

Raymond watched him go and then dismissed the remaining members of his new court with a wave of his hand. He was in no mood for celebrating, he thought as he sank heavily onto the throne in the great hall. Victory was his, and it would have been a moral victory too were it not for the girl and her accusing blue eyes.

In a thousand years he’d never thought to be challenged for the throne by his enemy’s little daughter. But it had happened. It was treason. And the penalty for treason, was death.


	2. Chapter 2

Raymond wrestled with his conscience in the days following the young princess’s outburst. He knew that if she maintained her claim on the crown he would have no choice but to have her executed. The thought drove bile into his throat more than any grisly death he had witnessed or perpetrated on the field of battle.

He resolved to visit her in the tower, as he knew that despite his uncommon skill with a sword, his real talent was his silver tongue of persuasion. Surely a sweet, sheltered girl such as this would be talked around.

He was uncharacteristically nervous as he ascended the winding stone stairs of the tower of London, the voices of those who had been dragged screaming to the executioner’s block over the years seeming to echo in his ears. His guards stood on either side of her chamber and moved aside quickly as he approached. He nodded graciously at them and they quickly unlocked the door, allowing him entrance.

The girl knelt by the window, her delicate hands clasped in prayer. She was truly a vision, her dark golden hair shining in the sunlight, her milky cheek as delicate pink as apple blossom. She turned her head towards him as he entered, her deep blue eyes widening with fear.

Raymond raised his hands conciliatorily. “I have not come to harm you. Or to disrupt your prayers. If you wish to continue your supplication I shall return later” he said quietly.

Princess Elizabeth crossed herself and rose to her feet, shaking her head. “It is a strange sort of man who enters a lady’s chamber alone, only to encourage her to say her prayers.”

Raymond frowned at her comment, once again jarred by such grown-up speech from the child. “My lady you are entirely too young to be thinking of such things” he said sternly, tilting his head slightly in admonishment.

She stared boldly back at him. “And I could say that you are entirely too _old_ to be thinking of such things.”

Raymond laughed breathily in spite of himself, caught off guard by the sharpness of the girl’s wit. “Touché, Mademoiselle.”

Her face lit up with obvious interest as he spoke the French words to her. “Oh! Do you speak French fluently? It is a beautiful language. I have tried to study it but my tutor had only a basic knowledge” she said wistfully.

Raymond smiled softly to hear her appreciation for the language he loved. “I am indeed fluent, my lady. I spent many years of my exile in the court of France.”

The girl’s smile faded. “Because you were a traitor to the king” she said bitterly. “You betrayed my father.”

Raymond’s eye twitched fractionally, a tell that he seemed unable to control in the presence of this girl. “To betray a king is grave indeed” he said quietly. “But to betray a country. To drive its lands and people to ruin, misery and despair… That is a far greater sin.”

The young princess paled, her hands beginning to shake. “It wasn’t enough that you killed him? How _dare_ you insult his memory!” she breathed.

Before he knew it she had flown at him, her grief and rage evident on her young face. She slapped at his chest ineffectively and once he had recovered his shock, he took her arm gently to still her. To his surprise and concern she yelped in pain and drew back as though he had struck her.

He frowned, observing the girl who stood trembling like an animal wounded in the hunt. “My lady, you are injured” he said gravely. “If my guards are guilty of ill-treatment I must know of it.”

The princess shook her head quickly and wiped angry tears away from her eyes. “It would be false to say that your men have been anything but courteous. This is an older hurt that has been very slow in healing, that is all” she told him, looking away.

Raymond’s expression darkened. “An injury no doubt inflicted by the man you called father and king” he said quietly. “Are you so full of grace that you defend him still?”

The girl was silent for a moment, and when she spoke the rage had gone out of her. “He was not a cruel man by nature” she said sadly. “He suffered greatly at the loss of my mother Queen Catherine. It is my belief that it drove him to madness… I believe that if he’d had a choice he would have been a more worthy ruler” she said, her voice quavering such that it pulled at Raymond’s heart to listen to her.

“Are you content with your quarters, child?” he enquired gently. “Is there anything you require that would bring you comfort? Say it and it shall be yours.”

The princess blinked in surprise for a moment before shaking her head.

“My lord, you were kind enough to have my things brought. In truth there is little I require for my comfort save a view of the palace gardens, and they have never looked happier than when viewed from the tower” she said gesturing to the window which overlooked a brilliant cascade of Clematis, Iris and Rose in the walled garden. “I believe the tower was built thus to ensure that prisoners might enjoy this great beauty before they lost their lives” she murmured quietly.

She looked up at him then, her eyes shimmering. “My lord, will you give me the dignity of telling me what my fate is to be? I may be young, but I know what it means to be taken to the tower. If you intend to have me executed I would like to know so that I might prepare myself” she told him, biting her lip to prevent it trembling.

Raymond swallowed, deeply affected by such heart-breaking bravery from the child. He reached for a chair and sat, clasping his hands between his knees. When he spoke his tone was soft and measured.

“I had a daughter once. She would have been not quite your age had she lived.”

He paused at the painful memory, his eyes far away.

“I am truly sorry for your loss, my lord” the princess said quietly, and her voice was so full of genuine sorrow on his behalf that in that moment he could not quite meet her eye. He nodded briefly in acknowledgement, and continued.

“I had thought to be your guardian. To teach you, if you wished. Perhaps even to raise you as my own. I had not thought to rival with you for the crown” he sighed.

“And yet that is what you have chosen” she told him gently.

He looked up at her and found her staring calmly back, her blue eyes as shockingly deep as the cold sea that had brought him back to his homeland. He gave her a pained frown, shaking his head.

“I am descended from great kings of this land. My dearest wish these long years has been to return England to peace and prosperity. To end the suffering and bloodshed. There are still evil men in this land. Those who would seek to use you. To put you on the throne only to rule through you. So help me God, I will have peace in this land.”

He paused, gritting his teeth. “If I must spill the blood of a sweet and innocent girl to achieve that then that is my sin to bear” he said swallowing. “Though it sickens me to think of it. My lady, you cannot _possibly_ fathom how far I am willing to go to protect the land that I hold dear. Knowing that, I will ask you now: Will you renounce your claim? Will you reject those who would seek to use you, and accept me as your king?”

She had stilled during his speech, her expression pale and resolute.

“My lord, I could no more accept you as king than I could swear that the sky is green, for it is simply not true” she said, taking a shaky breath. “I am rightful queen. If you must end my life then I will accept my fate with all the courage I can muster. And I will pray for you, for having slain not one but two monarchs your soul would surely be damned.”

Raymond closed his eyes as she spoke, his teeth clenched. He let out a deep breath and rose to his feet.

“Very well, my lady. I have your answer. I will send my personal physician to tend to your arm” he said with a tight smile. “I swear he works miracles.”

She smiled at him sadly. “Can he raise the dead? For what use will a mended arm be when my heart no longer beats?”

Raymond’s lip twitched unhappily but as he made to leave a thought struck him and he turned back to the girl.

“I once saw a green sky. My men and I had been at sea for weeks, a relentless wind driving us north into freezing waters. I thought we would meet our end there. And then I saw it” he told her, his eyes sparkling at the memory. “The richest green lights dancing in the sky as though the clouds had opened into an English meadow. With those blessed lights came landfall, frozen land with enough water to sustain us for our journey home. Of all the fantastical things I have witnessed in my life that may be the most. And so you see, my lady…there _is_ such a thing as a green sky.”

He nodded courteously before making his way from her cell.

* * *

 

When Raymond strode into his private rooms he found Gerard and Grey waiting anxiously in his study.

“Well?” asked Grey apprehensively. “Has the girl forsaken her claim?”

Raymond thrust himself into his chair, his expression grim. “She has not.”

“Christ” Grey cursed quietly.

“This is grave indeed, my lord” Gerard told him. “There are those who do not support your claim, those who seek power for themselves. They will surely put the child on the throne and take the land for themselves.”

“I am well aware” Raymond said darkly.

“Then end it” Grey urged. “Try her for treason and silence the wretched girl forever!”

Raymond’s jaw clenched unhappily, and he maintained a brooding silence.

Lord Gerard shook his head. “It must be handled carefully. Princess Elizabeth is not like her tyrant father. She is popular with the people, and beloved by those who know her. They might be reluctant to put a girl child on the throne, but you can swear that if you summarily execute her there will be an uproar.”

Raymond nodded. “And yet as long as she lives and maintains her claim I will look over my shoulder. England will not be secure and the land will fall into civil war.”

“Then don’t try her for treason” Grey said thoughtfully. “Have her burnt at the stake as a witch. The people will soon hate her if they fear dark magic.”

Raymond’s large fingers tightened in anger on the thick wooden arms of his chair. “You would invent false charges now, Grey?” he asked, his tone low and dangerous.

“Who is to say that they are false?” Grey pressed. “You have been alone in her presence and now she has twisted your mind, it is clear to see. You should be jubilant in your victory and yet she has you brooding. The girl’s beauty is unnatural – surely she has sold her virtue to the devil for such unearthly looks.”

Raymond smacked his fist on the arm of his chair in anger. “Hold your tongue Grey or I’ll take it out myself” he growled. “You believe God made all of heaven and earth, and yet one innocent child bestowed with great beauty must be the devil’s work?”

Grey stared at him, his face stony. “To witness this ill humour from you, yes, I might just believe it” he snapped. “Your coronation is in a matter of weeks, Raymond. This must be resolved. I know not whether you think to make her your daughter or your mistress, but you must banish any such thoughts for the sake of England!”

“You have said too much” Raymond warned darkly. “Leave my sight and consider your words with more care in future.”

Grey bent into a stiff bow, and stalked from the room, seething.

“Well my friend” Raymond sighed to Gerard. “Do you also have harsh words for me?”

Lord Gerard looked at him, his concern evident. “My lord, forgive me… To secure England you must marry for a strong alliance and produce an heir as soon as possible. You must take a wife to bear you a son. King Louis of France offered much support during your campaign and he expects to see his daughter the duchess Madeline on the English throne in return. He will not tolerate the threat of a girl with a claim to the crown… or a claim to your heart.”

“You must think me a foolish old man” Raymond said quietly.

“Far from it my lord” Gerard replied gently. “Your daughter was cruelly taken from you, it is only natural that you should feel affection for the child” he said carefully. “But it is a dangerous thing when your position is still so precarious.”

“Well, Lord Gerard” Raymond said with a wan smile. “You have given me much to think on. You may leave. And have my physician attend the girl in the tower.”

Gerard frowned. “Your physician? The princess is unwell?”

“An injury I believe was inflicted by her brute father” Raymond said darkly. “I’ll not have it said that the lady was treated with anything but the utmost care and comfort while in my charge… Even if ultimately she must die so that I might be king.”


	3. Chapter 3

In the following days Raymond busied himself with affairs of state, for there was much to be done. He heard many accounts of the tyrant king’s evils, of titles and land stolen, families torn apart and dissenters slain, patiently gathering information that would allow him to begin to make amends.

He thought of his wife and little daughter who were among the victims of the king’s cruelty, closing his eyes in pain as he recalled the scent of his little girl’s neck, sullied by what had seemed like more blood than any human body could carry. He was shocked upon realising that he had not dwelled on them in deepest grief in the past day, or perhaps even the past two. That was unprecedented, and he told himself firmly that it could be well explained by his efforts to prepare for the crown, and had nothing to do with the beautiful young princess in the tower.

Lord Grey entered then, and approached with a bow.

“Well Grey?” Raymond enquired wearily. “Have you brought more tales of woe to break my heart further? England bleeds in the wake of the tyrant king.”

“I fear it does, my lord” Grey answered soberly. “Which is why we must crown you as soon as possible. You must silence your detractors before the smoke turns into fire.”

“You speak of the princess” Raymond said in a clipped tone.

“Aye, my lord. I have already heard murmurings of her claim outside the palace. There are people who believe she is queen and are ready to follow her. You have destroyed the vipers’ nest save for the little maid. But leave one, and you can expect their number to grow. She will not seem so meek when ten thousand men stand behind her on the battlefield.”

“She does not seem so meek now” Raymond replied with a small smile.

Grey huffed. “My lord, I care not how it is achieved, but the girl _must die_ \- she is all that stands between you and everything we have worked for! Think on it, Raymond” he said conspiratorially. “If you have no stomach for a royal execution, there are other ways… You might visit her chamber under cover of darkness and stop her breath even as she sleeps – and if she woke, well… You could overpower the child with ease. If she were ravished it would appear to be the work of the guards, and you would be blameless.”

Raymond’s expression grew cold as he listened. “I’ll hear no more of this, Grey” he said with quiet menace. “It offends my very soul to listen. I wonder if our years waging war have made you callous beyond repair.”

“And I wonder if they have made you soft” Grey shot back.

“ _Enough_ ” Raymond growled. “I am your king in all but name only and you would do well to remember that.”

“I remember the promises you made” Grey said bitterly. “Of titles and riches.”

Raymond tilted his head, perplexed. “Those promises are not forsaken, Grey. I have not so soon forgotten the great debt I owe you, and Lord Gerard too. I had in mind a great settlement for you. I had thought to call you Earl of Essex before the year is out.”

Grey bowed graciously, clutching his velvet hat to his breast. “My lord is generous beyond measure. The great seat of Essex has more lands and wealth than any man could want, and I am humbled that you should consider me.”

He rose and tapped his beard, continuing “But my lord, if I may… perhaps you are too generous. I am but a single man of advancing years, with few men to work the land. I had thought a more modest seat such Bedford would do well for the likes of me.”

Raymond frowned, considering his advisor thoughtfully. “Bedford, eh? You surprise me, Grey. It is a more modest seat indeed, and harder work to be sure. The man who holds Bedford would be gatekeeper to the north and the sea ports. Are you not tired of politics, my friend? Would you not rather retire in wealth and glory?”

Grey smiled politely. “I had thought to serve your lordship with my last breath, for all that we have overcome together.”

“Your dedication is indeed laudable” Raymond said slowly. “But that seat were better in the hands of one who knows the north. You and I both have been many years abroad. And I must make a gesture to the northern houses who have suffered long.”

Grey’s smile faded. “Am I not so much favoured that you will grant me this one request? I have served your lordship well and yet you deny me.”

“Come now” Raymond chastised, his brow knitting further. “I will confer riches beyond your dreams. What is it that you desire more than that?”

“A man who has great wealth is to be envied indeed” Grey answered. “But a man who has power… He is most favoured of all.”

“I see” Raymond said quietly. “If I were you I would beware the lure of power. The most valiant crusader can become as a wretch wasted on the rocks of sirens’ song.”

Grey stiffened but only nodded coldly. “I am your humble servant to command as you see fit” he proclaimed tightly, bowing to make his exit.

“Grey” Raymond said as the man turned to leave. “Perhaps you will learn some compassion still. Instruct my guards to take the princess for a spell in the garden each day – supervised, of course. Children are like plants” he said, smiling softly. “They flourish in the sun and wilt in darkness. The lady must be allowed to take the air. See that it is done.”

Grey had turned red with indignation. “It shall be done, my lord” he said through gritted teeth. “We would not want the girl to look pale for the crowds as she is led to the executioner’s block” he muttered sarcastically, and swept from the room.

* * *

 

After Grey had departed in an ill-temper, Raymond continued his work for as long as he could until his eyes became sore and his thoughts scattered. He blinked, pained with deciphering the scrawled parchment paper in front of him, and after a while he pushed himself up from the desk.

 He made for the garden and wandered in a solitary fashion around the herb beds and under glorious rose-covered arches until he reached the walled garden, its canopies cascading with fragrant blossom. He was surprised to see two of his guards standing watch in that private place, as though they feared that some rogue might steal the flowers that flourished there.

They bowed as he approached, and it was then that he saw the treasure they had been guarding. The young princess lay engrossed in a book on the grass, the rich forest green of her gown having camouflaged her when first he approached. Grey had obeyed his command, despite his reservations, and conveyed Raymond’s wishes to princess’s jailors.

The girl’s golden brown hair shone like burnished gold in the sunlight, and from his vantage point he could not help but notice the graceful curve where her small waist blossomed into the swell of her hips. She was becoming a woman, and one blessed with such delights as to grip him most unexpectedly.

Much to his dismay he felt his manhood stir in his breeches at the enticing sight of her laid out on the grass, as thoughts of holding her there beneath him while he sampled her sweetness coiled in his belly. He cursed himself inwardly for such impure thoughts, and alerted her to his presence with a polite cough.

He had sought to avoid frightening the child, but she was much taken with her book and cried out in surprise on becoming aware of him.

“Be at ease, my lady” he said gently.

She sat up quickly to face him, and Raymond swallowed as he noted the stays of her gown were loosened to accommodate the sweet swell of her expanding bosom. He was about to wander on and leave her in peace, but some instinct – perhaps the loneliness they both shared on having lost their families - prevented it.

“Leave us” he commanded the guards, and watched a moment while the burly men made their retreat.

When he observed the princess again she was looking up at him curiously.

“Are you not afraid I will try to run?”

Raymond searched her questioning face and, finding not a hint of guile in the girl, laughed softly.

“Princess, I may be old and fat but I can still catch a young girl should she be so inclined as to run away from me.”

He had hoped to make her laugh, but his comment only served to bring an attractive pink blush to her cheek. _God help the young man who elicits that same flush in a few years_ Raymond thought to himself. _If she lives to see womanhood_.

He nodded to the patch of grass she occupied. “May I sit?”

Her full lips parted in surprise but she nodded wordlessly, curling her legs around under herself as he lay down his dark velvet cape and eased himself stiffly to the ground.

“How do’st your injury, my lady” he enquired gently. “Is your arm much improved?”

The princess smiled then, and it warmed his heart to the core to see it on her charming face. She was truly an extraordinary beauty – Grey had been right in that, at least.

“My lord I must thank you for your kindness” she told him. “In allowing me to visit the gardens and in sending your physician to me” she said softly. “He has helped me greatly with some exercises and a balm to ease the pain.”

Raymond nodded in acknowledgement of her thanks. “It brings me much pleasure to hear that your suffering has been relieved” he said kindly.

An image came unbidden to him of the girl soothing herself by rubbing the physician’s salve into her milky skin, of his own long fingers manipulating her sweet flesh until she was comforted. His lip twitching, he looked away from her a moment and noted her book lying on the grass. He smiled as he read the title, which he found to be a children’s text in his beloved French language.

“You seek to improve your French, my lady?” he enquired.

“You have rekindled my love of the language, sir” she said hesitantly. “Though this text is over simple and I fear I’ve exhausted it. Perhaps…” she faltered.

Raymond raised his eyebrows, encouraging her to continue. “Perhaps what?” he asked gently.

“Perhaps you might speak a few words for me.”

“Ahhh” Raymond smiled in pleasure. “Let us play a game.”

He pointed to a tree and asked “qu’est-ce que c’est ?”

The young princess’s face lit up in delight and she answered. “Un arbre”

“Très bien” he praised her. “Et ça?” he asked, pointing to the colourful flower beds.

“Des fleurs” she smiled.

“Magnifique! Tu a un talent naturel” Raymond said, clapping his hands genteelly.

‘Et tu?” he said softly then, gesturing to her. “Qu'es-tu?”

She paused, biting her lip uncertainly before she answered. “Fille?” she said slowly, and then frowned, shaking her head. “No, that is not correct - that is the word for ‘daughter’. I meant to say ‘girl’. What should I have said?”

Raymond tensed slightly, pursing his lips thoughtfully before responding to her earnest enquiry.

“You were correct, my lady, on both counts” he said a little tightly. “‘Fille’ is the word for both ‘daughter’ and ‘girl’.”

The princess frowned further, her brow creasing most endearingly. “That being so, how might a person know to which their interlocutor refers?”

Raymond’s mouth twitched as he suppressed a wry smile.

“That is a most astute observation, my lady. The answer is that it is usually apparent from the context of the conversation.”

“I see” she answered studiously, and Raymond lowered his eyes to hide his amusement.

“I thought perhaps you might say ‘la princesse’ he said carefully.

She looked up at him then, her expression resolute. “If I had chosen to answer in that fashion, I would have said ‘le reine’” she told him with soft defiance.

_The queen._ Raymond swallowed. “‘ _La_ reine’” he corrected her, his tone a little sad.

“’La reine’” she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper. “My Lord?” she continued in a low voice, her pink lower lip trembling a little. “Please… When am I to die?”

Raymond bit the inside of his cheek unhappily, irrationally angry at the child for her question, and the bitter feelings it stirred within him.

“If it were done, ‘tis best it be done quickly” he answered gruffly.

He had hoped that his answer might bring her to her senses, that she might weep in fear, that she might renounce her claim and throw herself at his gentle mercy - by God he had plenty for her. But she did not. On hearing his answer, the young princess only nodded graciously.

“Thank you, my lord” she said quietly.

Raymond shook his head in consternation, huffing his displeasure like a stallion on a cold morning.

“You have bested me, child” he murmured. “Though I fear your prize is only your destruction.”

He looked down at her then and smiled sadly. “Tell me lady Elizabeth, have you tasted sugar before?”

The princess’s beautiful blue eyes widened with interest. “I have but once my lord, when my father was in a rare good humour. It is quite delightful.”

Raymond’s eyes twinkled mischievously and he reached into the leather pouch that hung at his belt. “That it is, my lady. I confess I have something of a sugar tooth, and I am rarely without something candied to sweeten my tongue.”

As he spoke he held out what looked like a small glass ball with a single tiny rose petal encased inside. The princess frowned uncertainly. “It is beautiful” she began hesitantly. “What is it?”

Raymond laughed genially. “Open your mouth, child” he instructed.

Her cheeks coloured, but she did as he bade, and he popped the sweet between her lips, his groin heating as her mouth closed momentarily around his finger before he removed it.

She looked at him in alarm before her confusion gave way to pleasure as she tasted the delicate candy. He watched, enchanted by her expression as she discovered the delights created by the finest French confectioners.

“Oh my lord” she breathed in excitement when she had eventually swallowed. “It is like the food of a fairy or goddess from some unknown land!”

Raymond smiled, delighted at the image she had conjured, his eyes creasing in pleasure at the fascinating girl and her vivid imagination. Though, in his reverie, the sobering thought came to him that this was the same girl who was his rival for England – the girl whose life he would be forced to take, as he had taken her father’s. _Must I snuff out this little flame that burns as bright as the clearest star in the heavens?_

He worked his jaw unhappily at the desolate prospect, and as if on cue, a painful cramp in his leg let him know that in his advancing years he did not benefit from being on the ground.

“I have rested too long in this position” he said stiffly, rising to his feet with more difficulty than he liked to admit.  

He looked down at the girl and on instinct, held out his hand to her. As though it was the most natural thing in the world, she took it and allowed him to help her up. Her weight barely registered, slight as she was, and Raymond’s heart squeezed painfully at the thought of destroying such a delicate creature.

“Perhaps you might take a turn with me in the garden, my lady, for I am not yet familiar with the castle grounds” he said softly. “Show me your favourite spots.”

The young princess hesitated, looking up at him, her pink lips parted tentatively. “I should like that very much” she said guardedly. “But…”

She paused uncertainly and Raymond canted his head. “But you are afraid of me” he surmised regretfully.

“My lord I think you’d agree that I’d have good reason to be afraid of you” she rejoined smartly. “Though that is not what troubles me. More… I wonder whether it is quite proper for me to accompany you. Without a chaperone, I mean” she finished awkwardly.

Raymond opened his mouth in surprise, but found himself momentarily speechless, the heat of the day rising on the back of his thick neck. He rolled his tongue thoughtfully in his mouth for a moment as he considered her query and the implication that he might not behave properly towards her.

“I am your guardian” he said slowly, his sharp eyes observing her.

“Even so” she responded firmly.

Raymond scanned her face, but finding her in earnest, he nodded crisply and shouted over his shoulder.

“Guards! We have need of you.”

The two men appeared presently, and Raymond addressed them soberly in a most regal fashion.

“Her Royal Highness and I will take a turn about the castle grounds. You will accompany us at a distance and ensure that the lady’s honour remains beyond reproach.”

To their credit, the guards did not reveal a hint of smiles, only bowed graciously and followed behind the would-be king and the young princess as they made their way companionably around the garden.


	4. Chapter 4

Raymond busied himself in preparation for his coronation, though his mind was never far from the young princess in the tower. He was deeply troubled by the nature of his thoughts and could no longer deny to himself that he harboured a sinful desire for the girl. As the days drew to their end he would drink deeply of the copious wine reserves in the palace cellars, dulling his thoughts and softening the dreadful longing that had taken root in his heart.

Yet despite his best efforts, his attempts to drive her from his imagination were thwarted as she visited him in his dreams. In his mind’s eye she would come to him in his bed at night and lie with him, her little body curled sleepily against his side. He ached shamefully to touch her virgin warmth and caress her sweet skin, but the moment he reached for her she would wake, her blue eyes cold and accusing.

In his dreams the manner of her death changed, but that she died was always certain; whether she was smothered under his hand as he attempted to silence her, or whether he pierced her delicate throat with his dagger, she was always lost to him. One morning he woke once again, painfully aroused, and swore to resolve the situation once and for all.

This time when he visited her he brought a French text of a suitable level, beautifully decorated by the finest bookbinders in Versailles. He paused when he reached her chamber and turned to one of the guards before entering.

“How does the princess?” he enquired in a low voice. “Does she weep often? Has she begged your help in some plot to escape?”

The guard shook his head. “No my lord. In truth she is so modestly behaved that I have sometimes felt compelled to check she still breathes. And it is always the same. She reads, she prays… The only words she has spoken to me have been to enquire after my family.”

Raymond smiled in spite of himself, and made to open the door.

“My lord she sleeps” the guard told him. “It is but first light.”

Raymond nodded and entered her chamber quietly, regretful that his own fitful sleep had led him to disturb her slumber so early.

She lay covered on the bed, her hair tumbling across the pillow and her dark lashes closed against her cheek. From his position he could see the pale curve of her bare shoulder where her white nightgown had slipped down, and he longed to caress her there.

She was truly the loveliest creature he had ever laid eyes on, and he was reminded for a moment of the folk tale of the lustful king who finds a sleeping princess in a tower. He fancied for a moment that he could wake the girl gently with kisses, press his lips to her forehead, her cheek, her little nose until her eyes fluttered open.

“My lord?”

He heard her small voice from the bed and realised he had stirred her with his presence. She pulled the bed clothes up to cover her shoulders, her eyes wide and sorrowful.

“Will it be today?” she asked him, her voice trembling.

He frowned, not understanding. “Will what be today?”

She took a shaky breath, her lip quivering a little. “Will I die today?”

Raymond swallowed, his stomach gnawing with guilt at having caused her such continued anxiety. “No” he said heavily. “Not today, my lady.”

She nodded slowly. “Then would you please turn so that I may dress?”

His lip twitched in amusement at her imperious tone and he did as she bade him. As he stood facing the wall, he could not help but acknowledge to himself that she sounded like a true queen, commanding him even as he imprisoned her.

“You may turn back” she said softly, and he looked to see that she had pulled on a simple, pale pink gown over her night dress, her hair tumbling like a burnished halo about her shoulders.

Raymond cleared his throat and handed her the French volume he held in his hand.

“A gift, my lady. To aid your studies.”

Her face lit up with excitement as she received the text. “A book of French verse – it is exquisite” she said breathlessly, her eyes scanning the pages greedily.

“Echo, parlant quant bruyt on maine, dessus riviere ou sus estan, qui beauté eut trop plus qu’humaine” she read the text slowly.

Raymond smiled softly as she spoke the verse aloud, his heart delighting to hear the language he adored on the girl’s tongue. “Your accent is well done as ever my lady” he praised her. “Though remember the ‘p’ of ‘trop’ is silent.”

“I will” she murmured. “Do you think this poet is pining for a girl?” she asked softly.

Raymond worked his jaw for a moment as he contemplated her statement. “Perhaps” he agreed. “Though I think he also pines for his homeland and the people that made him whole.”

The princess nodded solemnly and looked up at him. She studied him for a moment, chewing unconsciously at her sweet pink lip. “You are a kind man, and thoughtful. What will you do when you are crowned king?” she asked slowly. “I overheard the guards say that there will be a coronation.”

Raymond sighed and lowered himself into a chair, bringing himself to her eye level. “That is true, Lady Elizabeth. And to answer your question, I will seek to be a just ruler. There are many wrongs that must be addressed. I intend to keep peace, not just in my lifetime but from here on out.”

Her young brow knitted slightly as she considered his words. “How can any of us guarantee what happens when we are gone? If I have learned anything it is that life is fleeting. I am sure that when I am gone it will be as though I had never lived, my brief time on this earth gone in a breath of air” she said with a sigh.

Raymond closed his eyes, his heart squeezing painfully at her words. “That is not so, my lady. However long or short our lives, our legacies live on in the memories of others. I have no doubt that you have left an indelible mark on all those who have had the pleasure of meeting you. And as for me, I intend to father more children and raise them to continue to peace that I have begun.”

She turned her gaze away from him then, a slight blush creeping into her cheeks. “You will marry, then” she said quietly, and then looked back at him, her curiosity seeming to get the better of her. “Who shall be your bride?”

Raymond’s lip twitched, betraying his discomfort as he experienced a sudden uneasiness discussing the topic with the girl.

“Most likely the French Duchess Madeline” he answered in a clipped tone. “An alliance between England and France is long overdue, and will secure the peace.”

The young girl nodded her understanding. “Do you love her?” she asked wistfully.

Raymond paused, running his tongue across his teeth as he considered his answer. “I have met her but once. There are few monarchs who are able to marry for love. To rule, one must make many sacrifices” he finished tersely, rising from his seat.

“My lady, I must ask you one last time. Have you reconsidered your position? Will you renounce your claim on the crown once and for all?”

He knew as he stood over her at his great height that he was exerting pressure on the child, but if that was how it had to be then so be it. If she required some encouragement to save her own neck then he would gladly give it. He stared gravely down at her, but she returned his stare with calm grace.

“My lord I will not” she said softly, and Raymond bared his teeth in frustration.

“Child, a royal execution is not a thing of romance. It is _brutal_ , full of horror and pain and you should not invite it” he said sharply, his anger growing.

She inhaled shakily as he spoke the harsh words to her, but although she was visibly frightened she remained steadfast. “What kind of queen would I be if I denied my position, and thus denied my people? I cannot do it.”

Raymond shook his head in consternation. “And you will not beg me to spare you? Not _once_ have you argued for your life. Perhaps you wish to die!”

She paused and a strange look came across her face, a look of someone much older than her young years. Acting on instinct he seized her, cupping her chin forcefully, his thumb pressed firmly into her cheek. “Tell me your heart!” he commanded.

She looked up at him, her blue eyes wide and frightened, though she held his gaze admirably.

“My lord” she faltered. “I cannot fight you. I have no strength and no great army. As I sit in this tower I have thought that I have nought but one gift for my people, and that must be to die for them. So you see… I do not wish to die, but my life is all I have to give. You said that monarchs make sacrifices. Then this must be mine.”

His hand fell from her face in shock and he stepped back, chastened to the core. Her wisdom, her extraordinary bravery in the face of death. She was only a child and yet she was a true queen; he could see that plainly now.

“If only there was a way to save you from yourself, child” he breathed, deeply shaken, before sweeping from the room.

* * *

 

The mood in Raymond’s court was jubilant as the coronation approached, though he could not share the sentiment. The fine food he ate turned to ash in his mouth, and his sleep was disturbed with the bitter sting of arousal and guilt as he thought of the stubborn young princess. When Lord Gerard approached him and suggested he throw a ball in the run up to his coronation he agreed, hoping that a distraction would help ease his mind.

“You should, of course, extend an invitation to Duchess Madeline” Gerard told him delicately. “The King of France is overdue a sign that his investment in you will be honoured.”

Raymond’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. “See that it is done. I should meet with the lady.”

“Indeed you should” Lord Grey cut in. “And we pray that you find peace very soon.”

Raymond looked stonily at Grey, who had approached with a strapping young man in tow.

“My lord” Grey continued genteelly, “allow me to introduce Thomas Keen, son to the late Duke of Buckingham.

The young man bowed, with a sly smile that Raymond instantly disliked.

“My condolences for the loss of your father” Raymond said with stiff politeness.

“Thank you, my lord” Thomas replied. “He died proudly in your service at the battle of Bosworth.”

Raymond’s eyes narrowed. “Is that so? I seem to recall he contracted consumption after resting too long in a house of ill-repute. But perhaps I am mistaken.”

Thomas Keen’s face turned sour for a moment before his cheeky smile returned. “In whichever case we could say he died doing what he loved, my lord.”

Raymond glared at the impudent young man and Grey laughed nervously. “Very amusing Thomas, I’m sure. Perhaps you could give us a moment alone.”

Thomas gave a bow and exited the hall, with Raymond staring after him, unamused. He turned to Grey, eyeing him suspiciously. “I sense a scheme, Grey. Why bring me the boy? What have you in mind?”

Grey smiled knowingly. “My lord I know you have been much vexed by the situation with the young princess, and I understand your reluctance to execute her. I have thought long and hard, and it occurs to me that if she were married off to the right man she may no longer pose a threat to you. Her husband would ensure her obedience, she would be taken to live far from London and leave you free to reign as the true king.”

Raymond listened thoughtfully, and he leaned back on the great wooden throne. “And you propose to marry her to Keen.”

Grey nodded. “He is of noble birth, and a truly loyal subject to you. At twenty five he is a good age for marriage.”

Raymond’s jaw tensed slightly. “His father was a turncoat and I’ll wager the apple has not fallen far from the tree. The answer is no, Grey. I’ll not see her married to someone untrustworthy. Besides, she is too young to be wed.”

Grey’s face darkened in anger. “My lord, I have seen you hack men _limb from limb_ on the battlefield such that I did not know whether it was God or the Devil who spurred you to victory, but I followed you through thick and thin, and you jeopardise _everything_ we have worked for, for what? For a _girl_? Is the most brutal of men a mere lamb in the face of one wretched child? She has bewitched you, Raymond. And you must have done with her if you think to rule at all!”

Grey stormed from the room, and Lord Gerard shook his head at Raymond. “My lord I fear for you both. His resentment grows and you have not taken the necessary steps to secure your reign. My lord, if I may… there is another option.”

Raymond laughed bitterly. “I’d love to hear it.”

“Grey is not wrong that a marriage would secure the girl.”

Raymond raised his hand in irritation, silencing his friend. “Let it be. I have already said that I’ll not see her married now.”

“Even if she is married to _you_ , my lord?” Gerard said questioningly.

Raymond inhaled sharply. “What exactly are you suggesting, Lord Gerard?”

“I think my meaning is plain, my lord” he said slowly. “It is clear that your feelings for the girl have grown powerful. You cannot keep her as a daughter, but as a wife? She would sit on the throne at your side, as the queen she purports to be. A marriage to princess Elizabeth would unite the houses of Lancaster and York and bring a natural end to this bitter conflict. You may anger France, but it would please the people of England. Promise your children to France in marriage. But take her for yourself.”

Raymond worked his jaw slowly, the tempting thought of making her his bride swirling in his mind.

“Has she bled yet?” he asked quietly. “And don’t feign shock Marvyn, yours is the most wily mind I have ever met – if anyone knows the princess’s affairs, it is you.”

Gerard nodded with a brief smile. “She has, my lord. I had it from her chamber maid that she has just recently had this sign of womanhood. She is ripe for marriage.”

Raymond winced, the feelings of guilt and shame that had plagued him returning with a vengeance.

“No” he said gruffly. “It wouldn’t be proper” he began, and then sighed. “I can’t do it to her, Marvyn. She is so young – in my advancing years I will wither while she blossoms, and blossom she will” he smiled wanly.

Gerard looked at him sympathetically. “My lord you are too hard on yourself. You will have many good years, and the girl would keep you young. You were a stallion on the battlefield.”

Raymond shook his head. “A bed is not a battlefield, Lord Gerard.”

Gerard cocked his head. “Is it not, my lord? You deserve a second chance at happiness and love. Besides, is it not possible that she has come to care for you?”

Raymond sighed. “Sometimes I think she does. A soft smile, a flushed cheek… the light in those sapphire eyes of hers. But to think that she would desire me is the foolish fancy of an old man, and I am no fool. See to the ball Marvyn, and invite the Duchess.”

Lord Gerard bowed solemnly and made to leave.

“Gerard” Raymond said suddenly. “Have the princess brought to the ball. I believe she would enjoy it.”

Gerrard turned back to him. “My lord, is that wise?”

“The palace is surrounded by guards, she’s not going to run” Raymond said testily. He looked at his friend then, his expression softening. “I cannot have her, Marvyn. But give me this.”

Lord Gerard nodded his understanding. “It shall be done, my lord.”


	5. Chapter 5

As the evening of the ball dawned, Raymond looked out over the great hall of the palace, watching his guests as they arrived, chattering merrily. The night was young and already the throngs were gathering with the land’s great and good, and foreign dignitaries in bright and elaborate robes. His own attire was more sombre, but very fine indeed; he had been presented with a deep red tunic, and wore a luxurious black velvet cape with a jewelled clasp.

He looked around from his position on the large wooden throne as a fanfare announced the arrival of a foreign royal. Duchess Madeline of France entered then, and Raymond’s mouth twitched in a smile as he saw that she was bedecked like a yule tree in the finest silks and jewels that France had to offer – an obvious reminder to him of the wealth that a marriage with her and France would bring.

Raymond remained seated as she approached him, and nodded in acknowledgement of her elegant curtsy. He wondered wryly how much it cost her dignity to lower herself to him, for he was not crowned king yet.

“You are most welcome here, Duchess” he greeted her politely. “You bring the air of France that I have missed these long months.”

The duchess smiled warmly, her jewels glinting in the candlelight. “My lord is most kind. I hope you will come to know my country even better” she murmured meaningfully.

Raymond raised his eyebrows a little at her flirtatious comment, before standing and offering her his arm in a formal manner. “Will you dance, my lady?”

“Avec plaisir” she told him, taking his arm.

The crowd parted for him and looked on as he took the Duchess through the formal steps of a Pavan.

“My lord is as skilled with his feet as he is on the battlefield” the Duchess complemented him.

Raymond laughed politely. “My lady is as skilled at flattery as she is at the Pavan.”

Duchess Madeline nodded graciously. “You will discover I have many talents. There are a host of womanly arts that are required for the offices of nobility. I can assure you my qualifications are impeccable.”

“Of that I have no doubt” Raymond responded sagely. “Though it is said that the wisest man of all knows that he still has much to learn.”

At that moment, Raymond became aware that the crowd had become distracted from his performance with the Duchess, and he followed their eyes until he appreciated the source of their interest.

The young princess had entered the ballroom; although she was alone and had appeared without fanfare, her beauty shone such that none could help but be transfixed by her. The girl’s golden brown hair was pulled back from her lovely face with simple, elegant clasps, and flowed down her back like ribbons of fading light in the dusk.

She wore a pale, silvery blue embroidered gown that sat low over her bosom, displaying her delicate ivory skin and the graceful turn of her throat. The gown was exquisite, understated and elegant, the style traditional such that Raymond thought that it must once have belonged to the girl’s mother, Queen Catherine.

His reverie was broken by the duchess who had been observing him. “Alors” she murmured. “The York princess. What a plain little thing. And how young she is – a mere child.”

“Indeed” Raymond responded politely.

“But dangerous, nonetheless” the duchess continued conversationally as they danced. “The York clan must be permanently destroyed. What is your plan for her – the rope? Or will she be granted the honour of the royal sword?”

Raymond stiffened as the musicians played the final bars of the dance, and bowed shortly to the duchess before retreating into the crowd, his stomach twisting in an ill humour. _How quickly the child had been condemned to death by those around her_ , he thought angrily, _for no reason other than the royal blood which flowed in her veins and her courage in facing the man she knows only as her father’s enemy._

He looked up and saw the princess standing quietly to the side, observing the dancing crowd with an almost wistful interest. She was utterly alone, spurned by all those who thought it too risky to associate with her, but despite her title he could see that she was just a young girl who longed to be asked to dance. Raymond knew that it was inappropriate - that he would put his alliance with France in jeopardy - but in that moment he could not allow her to wait in vain.

Her beautiful blue eyes widened apprehensively as he approached her, but her alarm was soon replaced by a shy smile of delight as he extended his hand to her. The musicians had begun a Volta and her cheeks turned a delightful pink as he gripped her slender waist as the intimate dance required, lifting her as though she weighed nothing and gently returning her to her nimble little feet as they danced smoothly through the steps. He delighted to see her eyes sparkle with exhilaration and found himself lifting her higher and higher each turn until she laughed with joy.

All too soon the dance drew to a close and he smiled affectionately down at her as they took the final elegant steps together, before offering her a low bow. He raised his eyes in time to see her graceful, girlish curtsy, and nodded to her respectfully.

He could hear frenzied whispering among the crowd, but also a daring smattering of applause for their superbly executed performance. Before he could speak, a jovial Lord Grey appeared in front of him with a group of English nobility, and Princess Elizabeth disappeared into the crowd.

Raymond endured polite introductions and drank the wine proffered, now and again scanning the crowd for his little charge. Eventually he spied her, and felt a pang in his chest as he saw her conversing with Thomas Keen, who appeared to be showing her a magic trick whereby he produced a kerchief from her sleeve. It was an old ruse, but the princess seemed pleased, and Raymond smiled regretfully as he returned his attention to the assembled lords around him.

When at last he returned his eyes to the crowd, the young princess was nowhere to be seen. It struck him then that Thomas Keen’s unwelcome visage was also conspicuously absent, and a feeling of foreboding began to stir in his belly. He excused himself shortly from the hall, and began to stalk down the long stone corridor in search of the girl.

Raymond’s fears were soon confirmed as he heard whimpers of fright from a darkened chamber, the child’s terrified sobs growing louder as he drew nearer. He thrust open the heavy wooden door, and his blood boiled at the offensive sight that met his eyes. Thomas Keen stood before a chaise, his arm wrapped tightly around the weeping princess’s throat. His breeches were loosened at the front and his hand fumbled gracelessly at the girl’s skirts as she struggled fruitlessly.

“What vile sport is this” Raymond growled darkly.

Keen froze, and in a whisper Raymond had reached the libertine’s side, the blade of his dagger pricked against the boy’s wretched neck.

“Unhand her” he drawled threateningly. “Or take your last breath.”

The young princess wriggled from Keen’s grasp, running to the corner of the chamber where she cowered against the wall, her eyes wide with fear.

“My lord wait” Keen spluttered. “It is not as it appears! The princess has kindled a violent passion in my heart - I was blinded by love and forgot myself for a moment only!”

“You dare speak of love?” Raymond snarled. “You were going to _rape_ that girl” he hissed in a low voice so as to ensure the princess did not overhear and take fright.

Keen paled, his eyes bulging. “My lord I did not mean to harm her – only to hush her! Forgive me, I was overcome by passion.”

Raymond ground his teeth, pressing the blade perilously close to a vein in the boy’s neck. “Your lust will cost you dear.”

“She has bewitched me!” Keen blurted desperately. “She is a witch - she has consorted with the devil to play with my good senses and yours, my lord – she has bewitched you too!”

Raymond stilled, his brow knitting. “I have heard those words before, and I’ll be damned if they are your thoughts and yours alone. I sense a greater plot at work” he said slowly, flexing his blade threateningly against the boy’s neck. “Spill your guts lad, or I will spill them for you.”

Keen swallowed, his hands trembling. “He said that you would not consent for the princess to marry me. But that you were honourable, and if you learned that we had lain together, then you would consent to the marriage to preserve her honour. If I were her husband, and she were to become queen... If you were overthrown, we would rule through her” he faltered.

Raymond’s expression darkened further, his mouth set in a thin line. “The rape of an English princess, a forced marriage, and the murder of your king. That is a most wicked scheme indeed. It only remains for you to say the name of the man whose foul brain invented it, for it surely is beyond your wit.”

Keen shook his head miserably. “My lord I cannot.”

“You will say it yet” Raymond muttered grimly. “Though I do not need your artless tongue to speak further to know the answer for myself. I fear I have been most painfully betrayed. Guards!” he barked, and a moment later his men entered the room.

“Take this miserable, lecherous _worm_ to the dungeon and interrogate him. Make him tell you the name of his patron that does conspire against me and the honour of this gentle lady” he finished, his eyes falling softly on the princess where she stood trembling across the room.

He turned back briefly as Keen was dragged protesting from the room. “You will find out the punishment for men who seek to defile the gentlest hearts that beat in my kingdom” he murmured with conviction.

The princess sighed brokenly then, and sank to the floor, her chest heaving with silent sobs. Raymond sheathed his dagger and went quickly to her, kneeling down beside her and gathering her gently in his arms.

“Shhhh, sweet child” he soothed. “Dear heart, hush now. The danger has passed.”

“Has it?” she asked hollowly, blinking up at him through wet lashes. “I fear that while I am unmarried and maintain my claim on the throne I will fall prey to men like him – while I live I will only become a greater threat to you. You are a good and honest man but eventually you will be forced to execute me. I will be torn apart over the battle for England as surely as my father was. And all the while, you will make your home here in mine with the French duchess… My heart weeps to think of it.”

Raymond frowned, and in his puzzlement at her words he did not immediately see her reach quickly for the dagger at his belt.

“My lady, _no_ -” he said urgently when he realised, but she had drawn the weapon, turning the blade against her own breast where it hovered threateningly against her pale skin.

She looked up at him tearfully. “Please my lord, end it” she whispered. “End my life and we will both find peace. Do it now, I beg you!”

Raymond’s eyes darkened in consternation, his lip curling with emotion. He reached up slowly with his finger and gently tilted the blade away from her breast, before removing it from her unresisting hand. After securing the deadly implement at his belt, he brought his hands gently to her face, wiping away her tears with his thumbs.

“Oh sweet girl” he murmured, shaking his head sadly. “I could no more take your life than I could pluck out my own heart.”

Raymond swallowed hard, while the princess looked up at him, her lips parted in wonder.

“My lord” she breathed, the colour rising in her complexion. “I have felt such things that I cannot repeat. Things I never thought I would feel. I burn inside as though consumed by a great flame.”

“Elizabeth” he murmured roughly, looking down at the girl in his arms. “In God’s name you must speak plainly. Do you desire me in the way that a woman desires her husband? A man she will lie with – do you understand? Tell me now and you will ease my suffering once and for all.”

“Yes” she confessed, her cheeks now as pink as cherry blossom. “Yes, my lord.”

Raymond exhaled sharply. “And then will you consent to be my wife?” he asked breathily. “To be my queen, and rule your country by my side – for you are queen as surely as I am King.”

“I will” she answered, her smile wide and her eyes shimmering with pleasure.

Raymond smiled broadly down at the beautiful young princess and felt a great weight lift from his shoulders. He caressed her perfect, porcelain face, before leaning down slowly and bringing his mouth to hers. As his lips gently brushed the delicate pink cupid’s bow of her mouth, he felt happiness he thought he would never experience again.


	6. Chapter 6

Raymond Tudor, Duke of Lancaster, and Elizabeth, Princess of York, were united on the 18th of January 1486 in a spectacular ceremony that saw them become both King and Queen and husband and wife, in the eyes of God and the people of England. The event was so celebrated that bells rang out across all of England, and it was said that so many cakes and treats were made for the occasion that the air across the land tasted sweet as sugar.

In honour of their union, Raymond had a new royal insignia designed combining the red rose and the white, symbolising the union of their two great houses. It was displayed on silken flags and embroideries in Westminster Abbey, and on the polished shields carried by the guards of their royal household. In honour of her husband-to-be, Princess Elizabeth had the new royal symbol embroidered on her wedding gown, a sumptuous silk of the purest white and silver thread, otherwise depicting roses entwined in further representation of the joy and flourishing of their union.

Understanding that the usual crown worn by monarchs would have dwarfed the young princess in both size and weight, Raymond commissioned a delicate crown of silver, diamonds and sapphires for his bride, so fine that it included over three hundred precious stones and took twenty of the land’s most skilled jewel-smiths many months to create.

On the day of their wedding, the royal princess walked down the aisle of Westminster Abbey, her beautiful golden brown hair as yet unadorned and flowing freely over her shoulders. Her delicately embroidered train swept behind her like gossamer such that in her beauty she looked otherworldly, drawing gasps and tears of rapture from the congregation. Raymond waited for her at an alter especially placed at the first sacred arch of the Abbey, and there with the blessing of the Archbishop of Canterbury, he took her to be his wife with tears of joy in his eyes.

When they were wed, they processed on together until they reached the second sacred arch of the Abbey, where the seasoned lord and the young princess knelt together before God, and swore to rule their country justly, with faithful service to their people and the kingdom of heaven. Once they had made their promises, they rose and were seated on the great English thrones, where upon Raymond was crowned King with a sturdy crown of gold and rubies, and Princess Elizabeth was crowned Queen with the startling crown of diamonds and sapphires created for her. The crown glittered in the sunlight like a halo above her head, so much that Raymond thought she looked like a little angel sent from heaven to make him whole.

When the grand service was complete they retired to the palace where a great feast was laid on, and much music and merriment transpired in the jubilant court. Raymond spoke with a great many nobles, but never strayed far from his young bride, guiding her and watching over her in her new role as queen. She drank some wine and a little mead sweetened with honey, and when Raymond noted her complexion begin to grow rosy he rose from his seat and announced that they would retire to their bedroom.

As was the custom, they were escorted to the royal chambers by the most noble churchmen and lords of the land, who stood solemnly as the royal couple were waited on by attendants who prepared them for the marriage bed. The young queen stood awkwardly as her ladies unlaced the stays at her bosom, pushing her fine wedding gown gently off her shoulders and to the floor until she stood in her white undergarments, observed by the priests, bishops and the King’s closest advisors. She drew her arms about herself unconsciously to shield herself from their gazes, and looked nervously at her new husband as his rich velvet doublet was removed, leaving him in his under things.

He caught her eye and gave her a brief wink. “Very well, very well” he said impatiently to the assembled group. “Be off with you now.”

The archbishop cleared his throat. “My liege, the custom is that we must observe the consummation of the marriage. The taking of the queen’s holy virginity completes the ceremony, and must be presided over by God.”

The young queen faltered involuntarily at the archbishop’s words, while Raymond laughed jovially. “You old dog” he said, his eyes twinkling. “I assure you that God has no place in the consummation of my marriage – I have been away in battle, a long campaign lasting many years with no woman to warm my sheets through the cold nights. Should you witness the utterly depraved acts of fornication that I plan to visit upon my comely wife I fear your souls would be damned forever!”

The assembled crowd began to mutter in shock, scandalised, but they hurried from the room obediently, flanked by Lord Gerard who turned to give his master a wry smile before closing the door and leaving the royal couple alone.

Raymond turned back with a laugh, but found his young wife trembling, her eyes wide with fear.

“Oh sweetheart” he said quickly, “have no fear. Nothing will happen this night nor any that you do not desire. I simply sought to secure you some privacy from prying eyes.”

He sat heavily on the edge of the bed and held out his hand to her. “Come here, my little queen. Sit with me and we will talk awhile.”

Elizabeth took his hand cautiously and sat next to him on the bed, her long white under-gown dwarfing her slight frame. Once she was settled he looked thoughtfully at her, the lines visible around his eyes as he considered his words.

“My lady, if our marriage was precipitated by the deepest love and regard I hold for you, then the expediency of it was engendered by the need to secure England. It pains me that I was not able to allow you another year to bloom. I have plucked your childhood from you and for that I am truly sorry.”

The girl’s lips parted in surprise. “My lord you are endlessly kind, but my childhood was taken by nature’s imperative these many months, and before that by a life of conflict and sadness. You have taken nothing from me, but given me most glorious happiness.”

He smiled affectionately at her, his head tilted in admiration. “Even so, my lady” he continued gently. “Should you wish to postpone the consummation of our marriage until you are a little grown I will afford you every freedom in this regard.”

She looked at him hesitantly then, chewing unconsciously on her plump bottom lip in a way that stirred his manhood most distractingly. “I wish with everything I am to consummate our marriage” she began slowly. “But there is much I do not yet know. I must confess to being afraid” she told him, lowering her eyes in embarrassment.

Raymond smiled gently and lifted her chin with the crook of his finger. “That is natural, dear heart. Only know that I will do my utmost to teach you, and please you, in all things.”

“Will it hurt?” she asked quietly. “I’ve heard it said.”

Raymond’s smile faded at her question, his lip twitching uncomfortably. “In truth, yes my lady. There will be pain. Though, if you are properly prepared, it will be but fleeting.”

The young queen frowned a little in confusion, her brow creasing in that adorable fashion. “Forgive me my lord… I do not understand.”

“Ahh” he murmured knowingly, his smile returning. “Perhaps I might show you, my sweet lady. Would you allow me to remove your chemise?”

She flushed deeply at his suggestion, looking down to her toes which peeped out underneath the white undergarment. “Then I would be completely bare” she whispered uncertainly.

“Yes” he said gently, smiling patiently. “It is quite proper that a husband should see his wife thus… That he should touch her…” Raymond murmured, his thumb moving in slow, erotic circles on her wrist.

The young queen looked up then, gazing at him curiously from under her thick, dark lashes. “And then would I see you thus, my lord?”

“Indeed, my lady. If you wish.” Raymond replied solemnly.

She stared at him a moment longer before giving a slight nod. Raymond smiled gently and kissed her forehead, before reverently lifting her white shift up and over her head. His breath caught in his throat as she was revealed to him; for all he had imagined, nothing could have prepared him for the heavenly beauty of the girl who had been bared to him.

Her skin was soft and creamy as buttermilk, her limbs graceful and slender as willow, her breasts like darling rosebuds atop supple little mounds. He thought to himself again that she was as perfect and pure as an angel, and part of him desired to preserve her maidenhead and keep her exactly as she was. But he knew full well that things change whether desired or not, and it was with a mixture of regret and aching desire that he brought his mouth to hers and gently pushed her to lie down on the bed.

Although his kiss began as chaste and proper, he could not keep it so, unable to resist the taste of mead and honey that lingered on her sweet lips, and the warmth of her shy embrace. Cradling her head, he coaxed her to open her mouth to accept his tongue, which she did with a little whimper that delighted him. He paused only when he felt her become breathless, and drawing back, removed his own undershirt.

The contrast between them was so extreme that it almost amused him. His battle-worn body was swarthy and scarred next to her unblemished skin, his broad chest and belly flecked with the marks of old wounds nestled in amongst the hair now peppered with grey. His arms were muscular though, and thick as trees from wielding sword and shield as he led his army to victory.

If the girl was disgusted by him she did not show it, only regarded his body with gentle curiosity, her cheeks colouring deeply as her eyes came to rest on his impressive manhood which stood swollen and proud against his stomach.

“You have experienced much hurt in your quest for justice” she said softly.

Raymond smiled gently. “God gives as well as takes” he said, reaching down to stroke her fair cheek where she lay. “I would kiss you again, my lady” he murmured, his wintery eyes sparkling with desire.

She raised her chin expectantly but he only smiled mischievously, before bending his head slowly and capturing the tip of her breast in his mouth.

She gasped uncertainly, and then squealed like a kitten in surprise as his tongue lathed her nipple, gently pulling and sucking until the little nub was hard and puckered.

“My lord, I…” she faltered breathlessly.

“Be not alarmed, little queen” he soothed gently. “A husband may suckle at his wife’s breast long before any babe.”

Closing his mouth around her other breast he brought his large hand down to caress her smooth thigh, and felt her tense under him as his fingers approached her secret place. In her innocence she had no knowledge of what it was she was seeking as her slender hips bucked towards him, but he marvelled at her instinct to take pleasure from him, and resolved to give it to her in abundance.

Taking a shuddering breath, he slid a single long finger down the honeyed cleft between her legs, back and forth, his hand trembling with desire. She whimpered then, with fear or arousal he wasn’t certain, but he hushed her gently, soothing her as she stared wide-eyed at him.

“Shhh darling little queen, I mean you no harm – only wonderous pleasure. Now I must insist that you obey me as your husband and king” he said with a smile. “You will lie still and allow me to tend to you.”

The young queen nodded uncertainly, her breath coming fast. He was enchanted to find that she was already much aroused by his ministrations, the girl who had become his queen bringing forth the sweet nectar of her sex beneath him as he pleasured her. He stroked her with his finger very gently, mindful of her youth and innocence, that the slightest touch was enough to bring her to her peak. Despite the desperate ache he was experiencing deep in his heavy sac, he had no wish to frighten her, or to sully their encounter with hastiness.

He continued to touch her intimately at a languorous pace, applying soft pressure to her swollen little bud until suddenly she whimpered in alarm, tears springing to her eyes. “Oh, my lord please - I fear I will be embarrassed… I believe… I need to relieve myself-”

“No, sweet girl, that’s not it” he panted huskily. “You will imminently experience the full pleasure of love – let it come my darling little queen, do not fight it-”

Her hips bucked under him then and she cried out a most womanly sound as the King’s talented fingers stroked her to bliss, his gentle probing of her maiden sex bringing forth further the wetness of her arousal. He groaned in lust as her impossibly soft flesh opened under his fingers like a fresh flower as she experienced her first orgasm, and he continued to caress her gently, working her through the throes of her passion and into languid submission.

When she was spent, he gathered her to his chest and held her small, trembling frame, her limbs curled around him as he had imagined so often in his dreams. His manhood ached to an almost unbearable peak, such that when she shifted in his arms and brushed his groin he nearly broke with the urge to lay her down and impale her with his heated flesh. She whimpered in his arms and he held her tightly, cradling her head and stroking her golden-brown hair with his large hand.

“Shhh, Elizabeth, shhh my Lizzie” he crooned. “Did you enjoy that?” he asked silkily, though he was fairly sure of her answer.

She raised her eyes to him and he was delighted by her wanton appearance; her beautiful hair was tousled, her cheeks were flushed and her eyes sparkled.

“It felt like…like the sugar sweet!” she proclaimed earnestly, eliciting a great laugh of joy from him.

He kissed her head, inhaling her sweet scent before greedily taking her mouth, unable to sate his desire for her kisses.

“You are sweeter still, my little queen” he rumbled breathily.

As they lay together she began to touch his thick, aching manhood inquisitively, wrapping her fingers around him hesitantly. The dark head had begun to weep with his own arousal, betraying the depth of his desire for her, and she squeezed him experimentally, earning her a rough groan from him.

“You’re a wicked little thing” he growled affectionately. “Much of that and you will cause me to release before I can complete the act. It is time, my lady” he said seriously then. “If you are ready.”

“I am” she responded valiently, and he smiled proudly, laying her down and moving over her.

When she was positioned underneath him he looked down at her, his eyes creased with a frown of regret. “I’m afraid this moment will hurt, dearest one” he warned quietly. “But I will do all I can to make amends for the pain I will inflict.”

The young queen took a deep breath and nodded bravely.

“Good girl” Raymond murmured, and positioned himself at her entrance.

He worked the fat head of his manhood through her warm virgin folds, lubricating the tip in her sweet nectar before gritting his teeth and pushing forwards into her. She cried out a sob of pain as he broke through her barrier, her eyes welling with tears.

‘Shhh dear heart, I’m so sorry” he murmured breathily, gently kissing away her tears, and resting his forehead on hers momentarily. “The pain will fade soon. Look at me. Look at me, Lizzie.”

She blinked up at him with wet lashes, her chin crumpled in discomfort, but he smiled gently down at her, remaining perfectly still except to caress her darling face until she nodded courageously. Upon her signal he shifted gently forward until he was completely sheathed inside her, holding her close as she adjusted to his considerable girth.

The exquisite pleasure of burying his manhood deep in the girl who had captured his heart – of making her truly his - was almost unbearable. He closed his eyes and frowned with the effort of prolonging the experience. Then, his nostrils flaring with the depth of his breath, he began to move slowly inside her, bringing his flesh ever so gently home before withdrawing almost completely, and repeating the action over and over like a most reverent act of devotion.

He groaned with pleasure as the girl’s tears gave way to little moans that belied her desire for him. He reached between them to tickle and fondle her little nub until she came undone and began to pulse around him. She cried out as her womanhood was once again infused with delicious pleasure, burying her face in his chest in a girlish gesture of shyness.

“No, sweet one” Raymond breathed roughly, tilting her chin to look at him. “Do not hide from me. You will bear this as the queen you are. Let me see it” he commanded. “Let me see it take you-”

Seeing her open mouth, her dazed, wanton expression, was his undoing. He quivered inside her, his resolve breaking as sweet spasms took him and he spurted fervently into her, filling her with his warm seed. He gave a gruff shout of pleasure, gripping her tightly and shuddering until he was utterly spent.

Panting hoarsely, he collapsed on the covers, pulling the trembling girl to his side and wrapping his strong arms around her.

“Shhh darling little queen, ma petite belle, be easy” he breathed. “It is done.”

She nodded contentedly in his arms, and before long had slipped into a dreamless sleep curled into his side. Raymond lay perfectly still, treasuring the feel of his beautiful young wife sleeping in his arms, before he too succumbed to slumber.


	7. Chapter 7

In the months following the great union, Raymond’s heart was lighter than it had been in years. He marvelled as his young queen seemed to grow more beautiful as each day passed, and was often amused by the flustered young lords who were struck dumb in her presence as they visited court to pay their respects to the new king and queen.

Great feasts were had, and jousting tournaments where red-faced knights would beg the little queen for her favour before the games began. To this she would only laugh and send them on their way, which afforded Raymond some private satisfaction. He was a possessive man by nature, and would not tolerate it should she take an interest in another man, however innocent. For her part, the girl seemed oblivious to the effect she had on the masculine sex, and Raymond was enchanted by her youthful joie de vivre and compassion for her people.

Yet despite his joy, there was one painful task left undone that he must now attend to. The libertine Thomas Keen had soon given up the name of his co-conspirator to Raymond’s interrogators and, though Raymond was not surprised, he had been deeply saddened to hear the name of the man who had plotted his downfall. The after a short trial, the traitor Lord Grey had admitted his guilt unrepentantly.

The door to Raymond’s private study opened and his guards brought the stony-faced lord who had once been his one of his closest advisors into the room.

“Leave us” Raymond said curtly to the guards, who nodded obediently and took their stations outside the room.

“We are ill met, Grey.”

“Is that how you greet an old friend?” Grey enquired coldly.

Raymond’s lip twitched unhappily. “I fear you are no friend of mine. All that is left is for you to tell me why you have so egregiously betrayed me. I would have made you rich beyond your dreams and you have thrown my generosity away.”

“Your _generosity_ ” Grey spat. “You would have made me a buffoon. A toy earl with pretty jewels and not a mite of influence.”

“Ah yes” Raymond said quietly. “Your thirst for power. I had not known it ran so deep.”

“Not so deep my lord, yet you refused me – you refused your old ally, while making puppy eyes at the daughter of our sworn enemy. It turns my stomach to _bile_.”

Raymond’s jaw tightened. “I see. I cannot help but think that had I granted your request, there would have been others. You would want more and more until your desire for the crown ate at your insides as maggots in a fallen apple. Yet I had not thought you would step over your oldest friend to grasp it.”

“My _friend_ ” Grey sneered. “A man who instead of seizing power when it is offered, jeopardises our chances by chasing after a York strumpet –  a guileful little temptress who has you wrapped around her little finger!”

“ _Enough!_ ” Raymond barked, his eyes blazing. “I’d sooner tear out your wicked tongue than hear you speak ill of the queen. In God’s name Grey, what have you to fear so much from a sweet and innocent girl?”

A sly expression crossed Grey’s face. “Why, I would ask yourself the same question, my lord now that you have taken the child for a wife. You’d best be sure that your little charge is loyal to you. And why would she not be? Of course she is young and vigorous, and you my lord, well… I’m sure even in your dotage you would be able to satisfy her yet. And let us not forget that you brutally killed her father, but nay, in the face of true love why might that deter her? Doubtless she is loyal to you” he said sarcastically.

Raymond’s face hardened at his one-time friend’s insinuations. “You will speak no more, Grey” he said darkly. “May God have mercy, for I have none. Guards!”

Raymond watched unhappily as his guards escorted the traitor’s smirking face from the room. A moment later the young queen entered the private study shyly, and Raymond smiled softly, for it warmed his heart to see her.

“Ahhh, ma petite belle” he welcomed her gently. “Come hither wife, for I have need of comfort.”

The young queen came to him obediently, and placed her little hand reassuringly over his. Raymond closed his eyes momentarily, and allowed himself to take succour from the warmth of her beside him.

“It is as you feared” she surmised softly. “Lord Grey is guilty. I am sorry for it – you do not deserve such disloyalty.”

Raymond smiled and planted a soft kiss onto her forehead, tucking an errant lock of burnished gold hair behind her ear affectionately. “Lament not for me dear heart, for in your promise to be mine you have given me the greatest prize of all.”

“What will become of the traitor?” the queen enquired softly.

Raymond sighed regretfully. “He will face the rope, and be grateful that in my hurt I will not also have him drawn and quartered. If a man must be put to death, let it be done once only – it does not do to take pleasure in such a thing. He dies tomorrow, along with his accomplice.”

“Thomas Keen is also to be put to death?” the young queen asked, surprised.

“Aye, my lady” Raymond responded, wincing at the sound of the libertine’s name on the lips of the girl he had attempted to violate.

She paused hesitantly. “Forgive me my lord, but why must they suffer the same fate? One has concocted a terrible scheme to murder you – his long-time friend – while the other simply did his bidding. He was doubtless young and naïve, but must he too die?” she asked earnestly.

Raymond frowned and looked seriously down at her. “My lady is gracious indeed to offer the libertine mercy. But there is a lesson for you here, dear one. Value loyalty above all else, for once lost it can never be regained. He cannot be allowed to live.”

The young queen considered this for a moment before answering. “Should he be put to death it would surely be revenge for his attentions to me; that is a burden I would struggle to bear. Could not he be banished from court instead, given solitude to consider his wrongdoings and repent?”

Raymond’s lip twitched in disapproval. “The burden of that evil is none of yours, but his sin alone. He does not deserve your mercy.”

The girl looked up at him then, her beautiful blue eyes wide and soft. “Surely mercy is most required when a man is _not_ deserving” she said quietly. “If there is a chance this young man can repent, I would see it done.”

Raymond pursed his lips disapprovingly, his mouth set in a thin line, though he struggled to maintain his displeasure when he looked into the sweet face of his beloved.

“My lady, as queen you will be required to make many such judgements, so let this be the first.”

The young queen smiled up at him. “He will live?”

“If you wish it” the king replied unhappily. “Though I hope that you will not come to regret your decision” he murmured.

Lord Gerard entered then, his expression grave. Seeing this, Raymond kissed his young wife’s forehead and bade her leave them to talk.

“Run along dear heart, for I fear Lord Gerard has come to pour water on our contentment. I’ll not see your morning dampened too.”

The queen smiled regretfully and nodded to Lord Gerard.

“Your grace” the king’s advisor said, bowing politely to the queen as she left the room.

Raymond eyed his friend tersely once they were alone. “Well Marvyn, what is it that has you so glum? Let us have it.”

 “Your majesty… Raymond. Unfortunately the king of France is deeply angered that you eschewed the match with his daughter Duchess Madeline in favour of the Lady Elizabeth. His hatred of the old York king ran deep… and may yet extend to his daughter.”

“Elizabeth” Raymond breathed, his jaw tightening with anxiety. “Has he made threats against her? Marvyn, speak truthfully - is my Lizzie in danger?”

“Your majesty, in truth I do not know. But I believe there is hope for an alliance yet. The king has not rejected the proposal to marry your children to France to secure a relationship between our two countries, though he seeks certain assurances.”

“Does he now” Raymond said icily. “And what does he want?”

“Your majesty, if I may speak plainly… You must produce an heir, and soon. England needs a prince to secure the throne and marry a daughter of France to bring peace. I fear that he may rise against you if a betrothal does not happen soon, and England cannot hope to fight another war at present. Forgive me… but I had hoped that the queen would be with child by now.”

Raymond stilled, his lip twitching unhappily. “She’s young, Marvyn” he answered quietly. “She needs time.”

“We may not have time. She has had a birthday since you wed” Gerard said soberly.

“She’s barely fifteen years of age!” Raymond retorted angrily. “She is but a girl.”

“Your majesty” Gerard said gently. “The king of France has requested that his ambassador take up a place in your court for the foreseeable future, in order to oversee the King’s interests here in England.”

“You mean in order to spy on us” Raymond said testily.

“Quite” Lord Gerard said drily. “Even so, I believe it would go some way towards placating the King, to know that plans were underway to provide an heir and a match with France.”

“If you think it best” Raymond huffed. “But I’ll take no chances – from now on the queen will be guarded at all times to secure her safety. See that it is done.”

“Indeed, your majesty.”

“And Marvyn…” Raymond warned. “Her wellbeing and happiness are of the utmost concern to me. I’ll not tolerate a threat to either.”

“Understood, your Majesty” Lord Gerard acknowledged with a bow before leaving the king alone to contemplate the vexatious news.

* * *

 

The French ambassador Comte Henri de Solier proved to be an intelligent and convivial man of not quite Raymond’s age. In honour of his arrival, a great tournament was arranged with games and a display of horsemanship which the queen herself would participate in. Raymond greeted the man soberly, and invited him politely to join him in the royal box to observe the festivities.

“I am honoured indeed to be greeted thus, your majesty” the comte said. “And dare I say that given the behaviour of my master, I am fortunate indeed to be so well received.”

Raymond’s mouth twitched and he nodded sagely. “The king of France must accept my marriage in respect of the queen. And for my part, you have my word that our first born son will be betrothed to a French princess. As long as your master is able to overcome his bile and accept these terms, I see no reason we should not remain amicable.”

“You majesty is most gracious” the comte said gratefully. “For what it’s worth, I do not share my master’s opinion on your marriage. In fact, I believe your majesty is to be congratulated - it was a shrewd match that secured a united future for England. And, if I may say, I have heard it said that the queen is of unparalleled beauty.”

Raymond smiled and nodded. “I will not deny it.”

 “I understand that she is much desired too” the comte continued boldly. “That some of your knights even request her favour, despite her recent match to you, your majesty. If you’ll forgive me, I wonder at their gall to make such demands in your presence…and at your magnanimity in allowing such behaviour.”

Raymond’s mouth twitched in displeasure. “Young men are often made fools in the presence of a beautiful girl” he said guardedly. “It would be uncharitable to punish them for admiring the queen.”

“Why absolutely” the comte agreed. “Yet it would also be uncharitable to punish the queen, for she undoubtedly means no harm.”

The king frowned, turning to face the man beside him. “And why, pray, might the queen be punished? What an absurd notion.”

The comte raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Please forgive me, your majesty! Perhaps my English is not as good as it should be. I only thought that as you said it would not do to punish your knights, it follows logically that the queen is the one who should be punished. But you are, of course, correct – her smiles are all innocent. And here she is now! I must say that she is wonderous fair, your majesty.”

Raymond looked round as the queen and her guards appeared on horseback to great cheers from the crowd. She sat daintily side-saddle, her gown and long, luxurious hair flowing behind her.

“Ahhh” the comte murmured. “There is so much I have yet to learn about English culture. In France a woman, once married, will cover her hair out of respect for her husband. It is honestly a pleasure to see that it is not so here. She is a great beauty indeed, and why should she not show it.”

Raymond’s jaw clenched testily. “The same custom endures here, comte. But the queen is young, and as yet disinclined to follow the traditions observed by the older ladies at court” he said tightly.

“Of course” the comte said with a polite smile.

Raymond was grateful that the display had begun, putting an end to the disconcerting commentary from the comte. The queen performed her role admirably, and both he and the crowd could not help but be impressed by her grace. The presentation ended with a race on horseback, and to Raymond’s dismay, she signalled her intention to participate.

“ _Elizabeth_ ” he murmured under his breath with anxious frustration.

“Wonderful!” the comte clapped as the race began. “The queen is not only beautiful, but fearless too. I am most impressed.”

Raymond looked on sharply as the young queen gained on her competitors, her smiling face triumphant as she pulled ahead at a fearsome speed. Suddenly her horse reared and Raymond watched in alarm as his beloved queen was thrown from the animal and onto the ground.

The king jumped up from the box without ceremony and ran through the spectators and onto the field to her side, fearing the worst.

“Lizzie” he breathed as he knelt down beside her, and relief flooded him when she looked up and smiled at him, laughing breathily.

“Do not move” he instructed her sharply and she lay still, breathing hard in exhilaration as he gently probed her neck, wrists and ankles for injuries, though he found none.

“My lord I am honestly quite well” she told him earnestly. “A little shocked, that is all!” she exclaimed.

Her smiled faded as Raymond looked sternly down at her. “You are a very lucky girl” he growled darkly. “You had no business racing, and at breakneck speed” he continued angrily. “It was unfitting for a queen. You will never endanger yourself again, do you understand?”

She looked up at him speechlessly and he clasped her chin between his forefinger and thumb. “Do you hear me, child? You are never to do that again… I cannot lose you, Lizzie” he said then in a gentler tone.

She swallowed hard. “I understand, my lord” she whispered.

Raymond sighed and nodded, before holding out his hand to help her up. The crowd broke into a relieved cheer as she stood, and she waved valiantly to them.

“You will return to the castle” Raymond told her firmly.

“I will continue the display-” she began, but he cut her off with a huff of disapproval.

“ _You will do no such thing_. We’ve seen enough of this event. Sirrah!” he called to a stable boy, who brought a fresh horse to him.

Holding her tightly, he lifted the young queen into the saddle and climbed on behind her, settling her firmly between his legs as he escorted her back to the castle in a brooding silence.


	8. Chapter 8

 When they returned to the castle, the young queen jumped down from Raymond’s horse and ran inside without a word to him. He sighed, drawing an exasperated hand down his face. She was frightened of him, he thought regretfully. He had been angry with her, but it was an anger born of anxiety for her well-being. Doubtless she was too young to understand the pain of losing the person you want to protect more than anything in this world. But whatever her motivation, he could not tolerate her running from him, her husband and king.

He strode through the entrance hall behind her, his expression stony. As he turned a corner he caught a glimpse of her skirts as she moved and quickened his pace.

“Elizabeth!” he called sternly, but she did not respond.

“Elizabeth you will cease this behaviour immediately and come to me!”

Again she did not respond, and he gritted his teeth angrily as he turned down another stone corridor. This time he spied her some yards away; she had paused and was looking back at him uncertainly as he approached. Suddenly she smiled, and ran off again, vanishing through the heavy drapes that separated the entrance way from the north wing of the castle where the royal apartments were situated.

For a moment, Raymond was shocked. She had openly disobeyed him, defied his command, and she had done it gleefully. He felt shame and anger burn inside him – was it because of his advancing years that she did not respect him? Was Lord Grey right that she might prove disloyal so soon? He thought of the knights vying for her favour – perhaps it was disrespectful, as the French comte had suggested. Perhaps it was them she desired.

He tore back the drapes in time to see her running up the stairs that led to the bedchambers. She glanced back at him as she went, and this time there was no mistaking the mischievous look in her eye. Raymond’s heart flooded with relief and a lazy smile spread across his face. This, he realised, was a game, and one which could prove most titillating.

He was surprised at himself for not realising sooner, instead having given in to insecurities that were most unlike him.  He made up for lost time by climbing the stairs quickly and calling after her playfully.

“Alas, I wonder where she could be?  Have I lost my sweet girl so soon? For a king without a queen is a lamentable thing indeed.”

He smiled sheepishly at one of his guards who stood watch in the corridor, and the guard pointed discreetly to a door in front of him. Raymond nodded his thanks, and walked through, looking around in an exaggerated fashion.

“Come out come out wherever you are” he called in a singsong voice.

He heard a muffled giggle from behind the heavy drapes that hung at the window of the cavernous room, and walked there slowly and purposefully. As he approached he could hear her shallow, excited breathing and it stirred his manhood in his breeches most ardently. In a flash he tore back the curtain to reveal his young wife, and she laughed breathily, a disarmingly attractive blush in her cheeks.

“There she is” he drawled. “Now what should I do with my naughty little queen?”

He pretended to consider for a moment and then swept her off her feet, lifting her over his shoulder. She squealed in surprise and delight, kicking playfully as he strode from the room carrying the indignant young queen. He marched proudly past the guards in the corridor and took her to the bedchamber where they had shared their wedding night. When they were alone he deposited her squarely on the bed where she lay flushed, catching her breath.

“My lord, I hope you will not be too severe!” she murmured coquettishly.

“On the contrary” Raymond drawled as he knelt over her on the bed. “You have been most wicked” he told her with a sly smile.

He placed his large hands on the material at her breast and tore through her stays in one brutal gesture, discarding the material and leaving her in her under-gown. She trembled beneath him and he smiled reassuringly down at her with a gentle humour.

“You have begun a most dangerous game, my lady. Perhaps you are ill-prepared for that which you have unleashed.”

The young queen smiled up at him with a defiant glint in her eye. “You were so ill-tempered my lord, I could not resist to tease you so.”

He laughed breathily. “I see! Remove your shift for me then, little queen” he said softly, “and we’ll see who is to be teased.”

She hesitated and he canted his head in mock sternness. “I am your husband and king. Surely you would not disobey me further.”

She gave him a small smile and lifted her shift up over her head, revealing her lithe, creamy body to him. The king’s eyes blazed with lust, his nostrils flaring as he breathed hard in an effort to control his impulses; she was new to the marriage bed, but the way she was looking at him now made it woefully difficult for him to maintain the gentleness that she deserved.

He did nothing but stare longingly at her for a good moment, causing the young queen to look at him questioningly.

“My lord, you are victorious – you have found me and must claim your prize. What shall it be?”

Raymond swallowed as he looked down at her. “My lady I will take a kiss” he said in a low voice.

The queen smiled and raised her chin, but the king shook his head.

“No, sweet girl. I want to kiss those other lips that are so soft and tender for me” he murmured, his voice low and even, as though she were a creature he was afraid of frightening off.

She hesitated uncertainly, her brow kitting in confusion. The king looked down at her, his tongue pushing sensually against his bottom teeth. Of course she would not understand – there were many worldly women who would not.

He bent his head slowly until his mouth lightly grazed her navel. “I wish to suckle between your honeyed thighs” he breathed quietly, and felt her tense under him.

She went to sit up but he placed his hands carefully on the delicate bones of her hips, stilling her.

“Be easy, dear heart” he continued softly. “I’ll not hurt you. I ask only that you allow me to educate you in the ways of love.”

He looked up at her, his hooded eyes meeting hers, wide-eyed and anxious. Her face was deeply flushed, but she nodded her acquiescence. Raymond breathed deeply, his heart pounding as he bent his head and gently pushed his tongue into the cleft between her legs. It was a prize he had desired since he had first laid eyes on the girl, and now, at long last, he would take it.

He groaned rapturously as he tasted her spiced honey, delighting in her whimper as he drew his tongue along the rosy pink slit and up to the little bud that nestled at the apex of her womanhood. He pressed his nose into the darling dusting of curls there, and lay kissing her sex, worshipping her mound as a man bewitched at Aphrodite’s table.

Before long he felt her breathing quicken and she began to mewl and twist beneath him, her smooth thighs impossibly soft against his weather-worn cheek.

Raymond smiled. “Shhhh, my little queen” he murmured. “Still yourself and allow me to give you what you require.”

“My lord” she pleaded, “have mercy-”

But the king silenced her by closing his lips around her little nub, suckling at her until she cried out as the sweet force took her.

“Mmmm, my sweet girl, yes” he panted breathlessly as he worked her through it, nuzzling at her ardently until she had quieted.

When she lay still he drew her into his arms, kissing her and comforting her in her dazed state. He kissed her forehead and stared down at her flushed, sleepy face, gently brushing her tousled hair from her eyes.

“You truly are an extraordinary beauty” he murmured softly. “How can any man hope to resist you?”

With that, he rolled her gently beneath him and penetrated her with one smooth thrust, making love to her like a man enchanted.

* * *

 

The king’s extraordinary love for the beautiful young queen quickly became a topic of speculation at court. She went nowhere unaccompanied by guards and he lavished gifts on her, from fine jewels to whimsical objects of interest. He indulged her greatly, forbade any but himself from dancing with her, and appeared unable to tear his eyes from her in her presence.

He commissioned a great portrait of her, which drew further commentary when he requested that the artist, a much celebrated master, depict the young queen as attended on by angels. The request angered some among the clergy, for it appeared that he viewed the girl as an angel herself, or perhaps even as the holy virgin. Before long, the nobles at court began whispering in corners that he was a man obsessed.

One evening after a state dinner, Raymond was approached by the French ambassador who was quite merry with wine.

“Your majesty is to be congratulated on a marvellous feast – such fragrant sweets as I have never tasted!” he proclaimed jubilantly.

“They are the queen’s favourite” Raymond replied, nodding graciously.

“The queen has undoubtedly exquisite taste, your majesty” the ambassador said sagely. “It is truly a shame that she should be the subject of such idle gossip.”

Raymond stiffened. “What is the gossip to which you refer?”

“Forgive me your majesty” the comte said, flustered. “I was overcome with wine and said too much. In truth I assumed with your many advisors that all the goings-on at court were made known to you.”

“Perhaps you might enlighten me” Raymond replied icily.

The comte reddened and bowed his head. “Your majesty, only that… that if you are in your _venerable_ years unable to provide the queen with a child… that she might seek comfort elsewhere. I have even heard it said that the disgraced Thomas Keen is secretly in her favour, for she spared him from certain execution.”

“ _I see_ ” the king said hollowly.

“Your majesty, I crave your forgiveness” the ambassador whispered in shame. “It is but naughty speculation and I truly do not believe such scandalous tales. I assure you that not a word will reach the king of France on this matter.”

Raymond looked at him darkly. “Comte, perhaps the next time you encounter such falsehoods, you might advise their perpetrators that idle tongues can be easily cut out” he hissed.

The comte swallowed and nodded his understanding before taking his leave of the vexed king.

Searching the room, Raymond spied Lord Gerard and motioned for him to follow him, his expression grim. When they were alone in the king’s study, Raymond turned to him, his face thunderous.

“So this is what it has come to, Marvyn. I have to hear from the French ambassador what murmurings there are in my court.”

“Murmurings, your majesty?” Lord Gerard asked, perplexed.

“Gossip” Raymond spat. “Idle talk concerning my marriage to the lady Elizabeth.”

Lord Gerard frowned. “Your majesty’s great love for the queen has drawn some speculation, but of this you are aware.”

“Am I?” Raymond asked quietly.

“Your decision to have the queen closely guarded, the portrait you commissioned… we have discussed the disquiet it caused among the clergy. I am confident that it will settle.” Marvyn said slowly.

Raymond gritted his teeth angrily. “I speak not of that.”

“Then what?” Gerard asked, confused.

“That in my advancing years I have become a dotard!” Raymond hollered, losing his temper. “That I am so _deficient_ that I am unable to provide the queen with a child! That the queen seeks solace with another, perhaps even with the letch Thomas Keen, for it is known that she begged for his life” he finished darkly, biting the inside of his cheek in frustration.

Lord Gerard raised his eyebrows. “Your majesty, that is a wicked tale indeed but I have heard no such thing. The queen dotes on you as you do on her, it is plain to see.”

“Is it?” the king replied distantly. “I am thinking much on Lord Grey’s comments of late. He foretold her infidelity. He made much of the fact that I am many years her senior, of the fact that I have slain her father. These are things that do not work in my favour.”

“These are the ramblings of a bitter, spiteful man on his way to the executioner’s block” Lord Gerard countered firmly. “He sought to plant the seed of disquiet and I see he hath succeeded! You must push these vile manipulations from your mind.”

“That is easier said than done, my friend” Raymond sighed. “For what has he said that is not true? I took her innocence and her father’s crown. I have these many years on her – why would she not seek the favour of some younger man, for my kingdom appears full to bursting with those who wish to bed her, and make little pretence about it” he said bitterly.

“Your majesty, if I may” Gerard said in a low voice. “These are the workings of an anxious brain, and no more. All will be well as soon as the queen falls pregnant – there should your efforts lie Raymond, and there alone.”

The men looked up then as the young queen appeared in the doorway, her countenance utterly charming in a soft blue silk gown, her complexion warmed by wine and conversation.

“My lord?” she enquired softly. “You have been much absent from your guests – are you quite well?” she asked, her expression concerned.

Raymond pursed his lips and nodded to Lord Gerard. “Leave us” he instructed, and his friend departed, offering a low bow to the king and queen on his way.

“Come here” Raymond instructed his young wife, and she did as he bade, her face full of worry.

“My lord, what troubles you?” she asked, frightened at his serious tone.

“I am well” he replied, but his voice remained low and stern, doing little to assuage the girl’s concern.

He reached out then and tilted her chin upwards so that he might better observe her, turning her face slowly to one side and then the other.

“You should have a care, my lady. Your beauty grows by the day, and your admirers with it” he said quietly.

“Admirers, my lord?” the young queen asked in confusion at her husband’s question and strange behaviour.

“Men” the king answered heavily. “Men who desire you as I do, and make it known to all.”

The young queen blushed unhappily then, shaking her head earnestly. “Surely there are no such men of whom you speak. All must see that I am truly yours, my lord.”

Raymond smiled a little at her answer, canting his head with a sigh.

“Dear heart. Are you yet so innocent? Is it possible you do not understand the power that a beautiful girl such as you may wield over a man? A man, nay, a king even - for kings are men too, though it pains me to say.”

The beautiful young queen looked up at him, her sweet lip drawn agitatedly between her teeth.

“My lord… it seems to me that it is not I who holds the power. For if it were, I should not feel the pain of having displeased you so” she whispered sadly.

Raymond inhaled sharply, once again taken aback by such disarming insight from one so young. He drew her close to him and kissed her forehead before gently caressing her face.

“Oh sweet girl, think not that I am displeased with you – how could that ever be so? I think only to protect you. There are still those who seek to harm us, and idle gossip can be as damaging as any blade. You cannot be too careful.”

“I understand, my lord” she answered quietly.

“Good girl” the king said, pinching her cheek affectionately. “Now what say you to leaving our guests to their merriment and retiring to my chambers,” he asked with a mischievous smile. “In truth your very presence has roused me such that I’ll not take rest until I’ve held you in my arms.”

To Raymond’s disappointment, the queen paused uncertainly and then shook her head, her eyes hesitant and fearful.

“My lord, I… I think it best I retire to my own chamber this night. I fear I have grown very tired.”

The king frowned in concern, placing his hand gently on her arm. “Are you quite well, my lady? If you are ill I must know of it.”

“No indeed” she answered quickly. “Only fatigued – our guests exhausted me more than anticipated. Good night, my lord.”

With that she left the room, leaving Raymond alone, his brow creased and lip curled in displeasure.


	9. Chapter 9

In the days that followed, the young queen continued to eschew the king’s company and her excuses for her absence quickly grew feeble. Her behaviour had become secretive, and Raymond’s thoughts grew increasingly dull and dark. His suspicions were manifold, and he could not be satisfied by reports from the queen’s guards that she lay alone at night, that there were no favours or letters from admirers exchanged.

He thought of her constantly, of her youth and beauty, and grew deeply jealous of any man who so much as looked at her at court, watching closely with whom she spoke, and where her attentions lay. At night he was reduced to the wretch he had been in those fateful early days of his time at the castle, lying in solitude in his bedchamber, pining for the beautiful young girl and sleeping but little. He was enraptured by fantasies of taking her in his bed, of making love to her and seeing her darling breasts and belly swell as his child grew inside her - sweet imaginings that were soon chased away by the galling sting of suspicion.

The king’s misgivings became complete when one evening the French ambassador sought an audience with him in his private study, his manner most unsettled. Raymond sat heavily in his oak chair, and watched gravely as the comte paced the room unhappily.

“Well comte, it is plain to see you have much that troubles you. Perhaps you might unburden yourself.”

The comte stopped then and regarded the king, his look almost fearful.

“Your majesty… I know not how to tell you, but tell you I must. Though I am much afeared that you will see fit to punish this humble messenger.”

Raymond’s expression darkened. “You have unhappy news from the French king?”

The comte shook his head. “No, your majesty. My news is not of France but much closer” he said swallowing. “The news I have… concerns your lady queen, your majesty.”

The king stilled, his eyes sharp. “Out with it, man. For you can be assured I will punish the messenger should he fail to deliver his tidings!”

The comte bowed his head, chagrined. “Your majesty… It is known that the queen saw fit to spare the traitor Thomas Keen. You are well aware that there are rumours rife that she seeks solace with another, rumours which, until now, I have treated as nonsense and ignored. But your majesty, I can do so no longer. For it pains me to say that I have had reports that Thomas Keen has been observed, here, in this very castle, under cover of darkness.”

Raymond stood up sharply, his heavy chair scraping backwards and his hands clenched into fists on his desk.

“ _What?”_ he exclaimed. “It cannot be so. The traitor was banished, never to return to court!”

“I am sorry to say that it is so” The ambassador said gently. “There is speculation that Keen has been working with the queen to overthrow your majesty, and restore the York dynasty to the throne. That she hath bribed her guards to deceive you.”

“I cannot believe it” Raymond growled. “Not my sweet girl. The fairest and most innocent flower in all of England. That you would repeat such vile speculation in my presence is an affront!”

“It pains me deeply to be the bearer of this news, your majesty. You have been the kindest and most gracious host to me, and I felt I owed it to you to tell you the truth before I do my sad duty and communicate it to the king of France” the comte said regretfully.

“Tell the king of France” Raymond repeated hollowly.

“Quite so, your majesty. Forgive me a thousand times, but King Louis must be assured that any English prince betrothed to a daughter of France must be legitimate. With the evidence such as it is, I cannot in good conscience tell him it is guaranteed so. Further, if there is a threat to your reign and the York dynasty should prevail…it may not be in King Louis’s interests to invest further in you and the Tudor reign.”

Raymond swallowed, deeply shaken. “And there is nothing that can be done to dissuade you from advising the French king thus?”

The comte paused for a moment and cleared his throat. “Perhaps there may be, your majesty…” He paused again and then shook his head. “No, in truth there is nothing I can in good conscience advise.”

Raymond frowned. “Comte, I demand that you speak your mind. I am these many years a solider, there is nothing from which I must be shielded!”

The comte looked deeply uncomfortable. “Your majesty, I thought only that it is not too late… to take another wife. For a queen to be unfaithful to her king…to plot his downfall… that is surely treason. If the York queen were gone forever, perhaps – just perhaps – your majesty could win the trust of the French king and begin his reign again in security. Though naturally I would never suggest such a course of action! It would be unthinkable for your majesty to contemplate removing the queen, despite her betrayal.”

The king stood stock still, his expression dark and hollow. “You have said too much, comte” he said with quiet menace. “As a subject of France you are exempt from any ruling I may make, though be not mistaken: were you a subject of mine you would hang this very morn. You will leave my court immediately!”

The comte nodded regretfully. “I understand. Again your majesty, I am deeply pained to have brought you such terrible news.” He gave a respectful bow before departing.

Once alone, Raymond took deep breaths though it seemed that in his disquiet, none would reach his lungs. He thought back to his dealings with the girl, to her initial insistence that he was a traitor, and then later her plea on behalf of the libertine Thomas Keen. Was it conceivable that she desired the young scoundrel who had laid lands on her? Could she have been persuaded to plot his downfall?

In a terrible temper, he drew his muscular arm across his heavy desk, sending papers and quills cascading to the floor. He stood in silence for some moments more, breathing heavily, before stiffening his resolve, and making for the stairs that lead to his wife’s bedchamber.

* * *

 

He entered the queen’s apartments unannounced, eliciting a yelp of surprise from the lady in waiting who attended on her. Raymond regarded his young bride, curled girlishly on her bed in nothing but her nightgown, her golden brown hair flowing prettily over her shoulders.

“Leave us” he said to the queen’s lady, his voice hoarse and dark.

The woman shot a nervous glance at her mistress before curtseying and hastily leaving the room.

The king stepped slowly forward, his black velvet doublet and leather breeches making him appear as a dark phantom in the dim candle light, save for the smattering of gold brocade.

“My lord, you look exceedingly troubled. Will you not take your ease?” the young queen asked slowly, gesturing to a chair.

“I will not, my lady” he responded hollowly. “I am not so decrepit as I cannot stand before my wife.”

The girl frowned at his tone, her deep blue eyes growing large and frightened. “Alas, my lord – what is your meaning? Why have you come here so shadowy and grim?”

Raymond slowly approached the bed, dwarfing her in his shadow as he drew himself up to his full height. She looked up at him fearfully and he raised his hand to her face, cupping her cheek in his palm.

 “Thus have I plucked the rose… the fairest and sweetest in all of England. Does it bloom for me still? Or for some other” he murmured quietly.

“My lord, please” she faltered.

“Tell me of Thomas Keen. Of him whose life you begged me to spare. He has been observed in the castle grounds” Raymond said darkly.

“No!” the young queen exclaimed violently. “It cannot be – he is banished and must not trespass upon our happiness!”

She went to get up from her seat on the bed but he moved quickly to still her, gripping the back of her neck to hold her there. He placed his thumb on her trembling lip, running it gently across her mouth as she whimpered.

“Say that it is I alone who have tasted these sweet lips” he said in a low voice. “That the most radiant light I see before me burns only for me.”

“My lord you know it to be true” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears. “That I love, and have loved you such that it consumes my every fibre.”

Raymond stared down at her, his brow creased and teeth clamped against his cheek in deepest conflict. “Your words tempt me greatly” he said, swallowing. “It is my dearest hope that they are true.”

The young queen closed her eyes, a single tear falling from between her dark lashes. “Sire, if you doubt me then you must not suffer me to live a moment longer. I cannot bear to continue without your trust.”

She spoke in a whisper but her words struck like iron against Raymond’s heart. He hissed angrily, his grip on her tightening.

“ _Wilful_ girl! Are we here again so soon? I, pushed from so many quarters to do harm to you, and you so full of self-sacrifice that you wouldst not defend yourself?”

She looked up at him, gulping to stave off her tears.

“My lord I care not to defend myself. For if I have lost your trust then I have lost all. And so I say again: If you doubt, you must not suffer me to live. Let this become my death bed.”

The king’s face paled and he dropped his hand from her in shock. He stared down at the beautiful girl he had made his queen, her eyes round and her breath quick as she trembled before him in her nightgown. He swallowed hard as she turned her chin up, exposing her slender, unblemished neck to him like an exquisite swan about to leave the world.

“Elizabeth you must not say such wicked things” he growled sternly, his own voice trembling. “You draw me towards such a sin as I _cannot_ fathom.”

A small sob of fright broke through the queen’s valiant façade and the king’s lip twitched unhappily. “You are right to fear me, child” he told her quietly. “Though by the same token you should also fear your own self, impetuous as you are”.

“I do, my lord” she whispered earnestly. “In truth… it is myself of whom I am most afraid.”

“Ahh. I know too well what it is to be afraid of something inside oneself” Raymond responded in a low voice, raising his hand to her face as though in a trance. “Nature has never formed anything more beautiful than you. You are the very embodiment of my darkest impulses. You render me powerless - my love for you is as a sickness I am so afflicted.”

She sighed brokenly at his words, her chin crumpling. “My lord if it is a sickness then I too am infected, my heart aches for you so.”

The king exhaled sharply at her words and bent down to capture her mouth in a deep, urgent kiss, cradling her head, kissing her and kissing her until she became breathless. He drew back then, resting his head on her forehead and breathing hard as he composed himself. Finally he stepped back, his expression resolute.

“Sleep now, my lady. You will join me in the morning and from henceforth cease your secrecy, keep my company as I command and behave modestly as befits the queen of England. Mark me well, Elizabeth” he said sternly. “I am king. While you live, your beauty, your heart, your very soul are for me alone.”

The young queen nodded, her complexion pink from tears. “Yes your majesty” she whispered.

The king nodded curtly and strode from her chamber leaving her alone, where she wept long into the night.

* * *

 

The next morning Raymond sat at the breakfast table and awaited his wife to join him as instructed, but she was nowhere to be seen. His servants brought fine foods which he refused, waiting in a dark and brooding mood and glaring at the empty chair which he had commanded the queen occupy. Finally he got up from the table in a temper, knocking his goblet to the floor as he marched to go in search of his wayward bride.

When he entered the corridor he encountered one of the queen’s ladies, who looked at his angry complexion in fear before curtseying to him.

“Madam where is your mistress?” he enquired sharply. “She hath committed a grave error in incurring my displeasure further.”

“Your majesty” the woman faltered. “I am sorry to say that the queen is indisposed and cannot join you this morning.”

“’Indisposed’ the king echoed hollowly, his lips pursed in disapproval. “That is all? You have no other word of explanation for me?”

The woman shook her head, trembling at the king’s wrath.

Raymond clenched his teeth in anger. “If she feared my company before this insubordination, she shall fare worse hereafter” he said darkly. “Begone with you, lady – and bring me no more excuses from your mistress.”

The woman curtseyed again and departed quickly, scurrying away down the corridor.

 Raymond retired to his study in a black mood, and before long the French ambassador appeared sheepishly in the room, his velvet hat clasped in his hand.

“Comte, I thought I had made my wishes perfectly clear. I’ll not hear your vile accounts, nor suffer your company further” the king said coldly.

“Indeed your majesty” the comte said tentatively. “Only I have examined my conscience and thought that I must do what is right, or suffer the knowledge that I have done ill by you, most gracious king.”

“Speak quickly, comte” Raymond instructed impatiently.

The ambassador gave a low bow. “Your majesty, deeply troubled as I was to have displeased you, I thought that I cannot in good conscience make a report to the king of France without indisputable proof of the queen’s infidelity. As such I instructed a maid to search the queen’s chambers and today she hath reported that she found none other than this keepsake, tucked under the queen’s pillow.”

As the comte spoke he pulled a kerchief from a pouch at his belt and Raymond’s blood ran cold at the sight of it. It was the very same as he had observed Thomas Keen present to the girl the night he sought to impress her with magic tricks; the night he had tried to force himself on her.

“This object is known to me” he said quietly, his lip trembling. “It was found in her bed?”

“Just so, your majesty” the comte said gravely. “Now this in itself is not proof; it is of course conceivable that the kerchief could have come to be there a number of ways – perhaps she picked it up not knowing to whom it belonged. But I have heard fresh that the blaggard will visit her in her chambers this very night. Your majesty, if I can persuade you, I have a proposition that will settle this matter once and for all.”

“Say it” Raymond barked harshly, his eyes transfixed on the kerchief. “For I cannot continue in such turmoil.”

The comte lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Suppose your majesty were to see their infidelity with his own eyes? I propose to keep watch, for I am unknown to the blaggard Thomas Keen and can pass unnoticed. If I see him enter the queen’s chamber I will alert you from your waiting place in a room down the corridor. From there you can surprise them in her chamber and have the truth.”

Raymond closed his eyes in pain, his hands tightening into fists. “Very well, comte. If this is the truth then I must see it for myself – though I fear the sight will destroy me” he murmured brokenly. Until tonight.”

“Until tonight, your majesty” the comte said with a bow, making his exit.

Raymond sat heavily in his study, covering his face with his hands. Was it indeed possible that his beloved queen could betray him so? That she was able to deceive him so well? His heart ached in pain at the thought, and then at the bleak realisation that, if she were proven to be unfaithful, he would have little choice but to execute her.

He looked up in sorrow as Lord Gerard entered the room.

“Marvyn” the king said quietly. “I have received most grievous news.”

“I’m sorry your majesty” Lord Gerard responded sympathetically. “Will you share your misfortune?”

Raymond nodded desolately and began to relay the comte’s revelations, while Lord Gerard listened, his brow furrowed.

“It is certain that the kerchief belongs to Thomas Keen?” Gerard asked slowly.

“It is” Raymond responded miserably. “I have seen him carry it with my own eyes.”

Gerard nodded thoughtfully. “This is a sorry tale indeed, but it remains only a tale until it has been verified. And I must say in truth I am troubled that you have none but the French ambassador’s word. Raymond, if I may… I have a proposition of my own.”

“Please” the king said. “For I will gladly accept any scheme that could prove my sweet girl innocent.”

“You will observe the queen yes, but not wait for the ambassador’s instruction” Lord Gerard suggested. “I believe there is an old passage covered by a curtain that runs between the queen’s chambers and the maid’s room. Conceal yourself there, tell no one and watch all that transpires – only then can you be assured of the whole truth.”

Raymond nodded thoughtfully. “Wars have been fought for less than a half-truth. You are right – ‘tis best I know everything. Will you accompany me, old friend?”

“I will indeed” Lord Gerard assured him. “Glad tidings or ill, tonight we shall learn the truth.”


	10. Chapter 10

Raymond waited impatiently as the evening passed for the time that the truth would be revealed to him once and for all. The queen had emerged eventually for the court dinner, though she said little and her cheeks lacked their usual rosy colour. He observed her in a brooding silence, his expression darkening as she excused herself early, leaving the table and retiring to her private chambers.

On Lord Gerard’s signal, the king slipped away from the table shortly afterwards, and the two men concealed themselves in the passage way that connected the queen’s chamber to the maid’s room. Raymond stood quietly, positioning himself at the end of the passage, the entrance to which was covered by a tapestry that afforded him a perfect view of his wife’s bedchamber between the gap.

He watched pained as she prepared for bed, his loins gripped with hollow lust as her lady in waiting removed the queen’s robe, revealing for a moment the slender curve of his young wife’s back and her round buttocks. Shortly thereafter she slipped her nightgown on and seemed to fall quickly into bed as though she could not wait to be there. Raymond ground his teeth at the thought that she was so eager to have Thomas Keen join her.

“This is folly” he murmured to Lord Gerard. “I cannot bear to watch.”

“You must”, Lord Gerard urged in a whisper. “Else endure suspicion for the rest of your life. Your men are concealed down the corridor where the comte believes you to be. We may be glad of them yet.”

Raymond nodded unhappily, and noted that by the time the queen’s lady had left her room, she seemed to already be asleep. They watched her slumber for some time, and Raymond had almost begun to relax when his stomach clenched as the door to her chamber opened quietly. He hissed in anger and pain as he saw that it was none other than the blaggard Thomas Keen who had entered.

“No” he moaned sorrowfully. “It cannot be!”

“But wait! What’s this?” Lord Gerard murmured as a second man entered behind Keen. “The comte!”

Sure enough, the French ambassador Comte Henri de Solier had entered the queen’s chamber as well, closing the door behind him. Raymond watched in shock and confusion, straining to hear their conversation.

Keen’s eyes darted nervously around the room before settling lustfully on the sleeping queen.

“Comte, this plot carries great risk” he murmured. “Where are the queen’s guards?”

“They have left their posts on the orders of the king” the comte said with a wicked smile. “Ready access to his study has allowed me to take his seal – the note was easily forged.”

Keen nodded. “And what if the queen should wake?”

“She’ll not wake” the comte laughed deviously. “I slipped a powerful sleeping draught into her wine at dinner.”

As he spoke, the comte bent over the queen where she lay, caressing her face before lifting her hand and letting it fall back to the covers by way of illustration.

Raymond started forward in their hiding place in a rage, but was held back by Lord Gerard’s urgent grip on his arm. “Hold, Raymond” he hissed quietly. “Or we will never know the full extent of the comte’s treachery! They cannot know we are here.”

“And the king will see me lie with her?” Keen asked, his eyes transfixed on the girl.

“Just so” the comte told him. “In a short moment I will go to meet with the king as I have arranged with him. You will lie betwixt the queen’s sheets and take her in your arms, where you both will appear in a post-coital slumber. I will fetch the jealous king to the chamber door and he will see enough to suppose her guilt. I have poured such doubts and suggestions of her infidelity in his ears that he is primed to believe her capable of the worst deception. The fool will be overcome with grief and rage at the proof of it and I will drag him away before he can attempt to question the queen!”

Raymond inhaled sharply behind the curtain, watching in consternation as Keen stepped forward and stood over the bed, observing the sleeping young girl as if captivated.

“Broken with sorrow he will be at his most vulnerable and we will strike” Keen said venomously. “His reign will be ended and the girl will be mine. The game is afoot – now lead the king to view our scene!”

In a flash, Raymond strode out from behind the curtain with Lord Gerard at his side.

“You are too late, master Keen, for I have already viewed it” Raymond said, his voice low and trembling with rage. “And as ugly a performance I have never seen.”

Keen and the comte spun round in surprise, their faces ashen. In a panic, Keen went for the dagger at his belt, but at that moment the king’s guards burst into the room, surrounding Keen and the comte, their swords drawn.

“I cannot admit to feeling surprise at your involvement in such a wicked plot, Keen” Raymond growled. “You are a miserable libertine, blinded by venom and lust. You crawl in the pit with the most revolting, undeserving of beasts, while my sweet queen is an undoubted angel of light who graces the very earth she walks on. She spared your life and you repaid her kindness with this vile, debauched scheme. You are unworthy to exist in a world where she is.”

“And are you worthy, your _majesty_?” Keen hissed. “Not so long ago you had your bonny little maid locked in the tower, young and innocent as she was. You imprisoned her, and still could not leave well enough alone - I saw the way you looked at her, your obsession… The lechery is yours, sire. You have enough years to have fathered her twice, yet you pursued her jealously. And when the comte planted his little suggestions you were so quick to believe her capable of infidelity. So I ask – are you worthy?”

Raymond stood still as a statue as Keen spouted his venom, until finally he nodded resolutely. “Perhaps I am not worthy” he said quietly. “But I will spend the rest of my days making amends, loving her and pleasing her in all things, for I am _king_ and she is _mine_. You will never see her again. And the fires of hell will consume you” Raymond finished with steel in his voice, before nodding to guards. “Take him.”

“Pretty words” the comte said bitterly as Keen was marched from the queen’s chamber. “But in the end, he did what he did for love, just like you. And myself also.”

Raymond approached the comte slowly, his forehead creased. “Comte, I know your guilt to be absolute. I know you are the architect of this abominable scheme, and that you have manipulated me and my court since you set foot here. All this I know, but I know not why. You speak of love? For whom would you pursue such a damnable plot?”

“One you spurned” the comte sneered. “She is finest creature who ever lived and you discarded her in favour of the York whore! ”

Raymond’s face hardened in understanding. “Duchess Madeline of France” he surmised in a clipped tone. “You speak as though her callous tongue were in your head. I knew her to be proud and mercenary yet I had not known her jealousy ran so deep that she would concoct such a revenge. She endangered the peace between two great nations for nothing but vengeance’s sake. She has used you very ill comte, you and the wretched letch who even now is being transported to the dungeon.”

“I would die for her!” the comte said defiantly.

“And I have little doubt that you will, and soon” the king responded, smiling unpleasantly. “Comte, while as a subject of France your fate will be determined by the French king, I am convinced that when he learns of the dastardly scheme devised by his daughter and his ambassador he will be enraged. In truth, you may wish that you had been subject to my dominion – I hear that King Louis employs such methods of execution as deemed too uncivilised for the English court” he concluded in a hard tone.

“Lord Gerard” the king said then, turning to his friend. “I owe you a debt for the service you have done me this night, but must ask one more thing of you. See that this blaggard is returned to the French court, and the scheme to which he, the Duchess Madeline and Thomas Keen were party is made known. You may assure King Louis that, despite the treachery of his daughter and her errand boy, we remain willing to see that our first born son will marry a daughter of France.”

“I will go with pleasure, your majesty” Lord Gerard replied with a twinkling smile.

When all had departed the queen’s chamber save Raymond and the slumbering queen herself, Raymond went to her bed and sat gently beside her, clasping her slender hand in his. She stirred a little in her sleep, and Raymond soothed her, caressing her face and stroking her golden brown hair.

“Sleep, darling little queen” he murmured “and keep your innocence. Dear child… May you never know what terrible plots were afoot tonight, nor how close to danger you came. Tomorrow we will begin afresh, and I will endeavour to be the husband you deserve.”

He leant forward and placed a gentle, lingering kiss on her forehead, before leaving her to sleep in peace.

* * *

 

The next morning Raymond was disappointed when the queen did not join him for breakfast, and he spent several hours in his study brooding and chastising himself for his oafish behaviour. He had allowed himself to be manipulated, he had doubted her, and her sweet, honest and most vibrant soul had been crushed. Would she ever forgive him?

Eventually when he met the ladies and gentlemen of the court in the great hall, he observed that she had joined the gathering. She was in polite conversation with a group of noble lords and ladies, and the king thought sadly how much pleasure he would derive from hearing her voice had he the courage to approach her.

He looked on and frowned a little, pained as he took in the extent of her discomfort, the pallor of her skin and her unsettled manor. Was she very out of sorts, or was his conscience pricking him with visions of the unhappiness he had caused? He summoned a nearby guard as he observed his young wife.

“Tell me good man, does the queen look pale to you?” he asked, not taking his eyes away from the girl he had made his bride.

The guard cleared his throat uncomfortably and looked in the direction of the queen. “Your Majesty, the queen’s beauty is unmatched – indeed, her looks are fabled throughout your kingdom. If indeed she is pale today, then you can be sure that all the fine ladies of the court will be pale tomorrow.”

The king shook his head at the man’s diplomatic response, his brow furrowed. He was about to respond when he saw the queen’s eyes flutter closed. She sank to the floor, much to the consternation of the courtiers around her, who gasped and went immediately to attend on her.

Raymond marched quickly over, relieved that the crowd cleared for him, else he would have thrown them aside with his bare hands to reach her. He knelt down beside his unconscious queen, taking up her slim hand in his and rubbing her palm with his thumb.

“Elizabeth” he murmured gently. “My Lizzie… Come back to me sweet girl.”

 Her eyelashes stirred but he could not rouse her. His jaw tense, he slid an arm under her and lifted her slight form into his arms with ease.

His attendants gasped at the sight of the king exerting himself despite his royal status, and a guard stepped forward nervously.

“Your Majesty need not trouble himself, but let us take the queen to her chambers.”

“Out of the question” he growled. “She is my charge and mine alone. Send for my physician, and have him attend on her in _my_ chambers, mark you. I will care for her myself!”

The guard nodded with a gulp. “It shall be done, Your Majesty.”

Raymond strode from the hall carrying his unconscious wife, leaving his court to murmur in concern for the queen, and in wonder at the devotion of the king to the beautiful young girl.

* * *

 

The physician rushed to the queen’s bedside on the king’s orders, and firmly dismissed Raymond from the room while he conducted his examination of the unconscious girl. Deeply concerned, Raymond paced the stone corridor outside like a caged lion, frantic with worry. The minutes passed like hours, and Raymond’s fears for his beloved queen grew more profound until he was beside himself with worry.

Finally, the physician emerged from king’s chamber where the queen lay, and Raymond approached him, scanning the man’s face for any clue to the queen’s condition.

“Speak plain, man” he instructed gruffly.  “I have had more than my share of grief. I must know her fate.”

The physician raised his hands in a calming gesture. “Your Majesty, comfort yourself and be at ease for I have glad tidings indeed. The queen is with child.”

Raymond’s face paled with shock, and he sank heavily into a chair, at a loss for words. “You are certain?” he breathed eventually.

“Quite so, Your Majesty” the physician said gently. “I’d say she has been these several weeks.”

Raymond looked up sharply in consternation as a thought struck him. “She was given a sleeping draught yesterevening – could it have harmed her or the child?”

The physician frowned. “She and the child are well, though I believe that may explain the fainting spell” he said. “Henceforth there should be no more such potions administered.”

“You have my word there will not be” the king said darkly, before shaking his head. “She is so young” he murmured. “I fear for her greatly.”

The physician nodded compassionately. “That is only natural – any man would feel the same, be they king or farmhand. But she is awake now and strong, Your Majesty, and possessed of a stubborn will and a fiery spirit.”

“That she is” Raymond said, smiling proudly. “I must go to her. I have been too long from her side.”

The physician bowed, and Raymond entered the chamber quietly, approaching the bed where the girl lay, her beautiful locks tumbling across the pillow. She opened her deep blue eyes sleepily as he approached and smiled tentatively. For a moment Raymond stared at her in wonder, his forehead creased with an excess of emotion – the love he bore for her, and the regret of having doubted her.

Suddenly, he sank to his knees beside the bed, grasping her hand and kissing it reverently. They young queen cried out in concern as he did so, her eyes wide with confusion.

“My Lord you must not kneel before me!” she urged. “You are king and none but God is higher than you.”

“That is not so, dear heart” the king told her, his voice low and deep with emotion. “Since the moment I first laid eyes on you most beloved girl, you have been wise, valiant and honourable beyond reproach. I have chastised you, and suspected you, and all the while you were carrying our royal child. So yes, my lady, I will kneel before you, and humbly beg your forgiveness.”

His heart warmed as he felt her little fingers squeeze his hand and his damp eyes raised to meet her loving gaze.

“There is nothing to forgive, my lord” she murmured. “I have been secretive and eschewed your company, though it hurt me deeply to do so.”

Raymond gave her a pained frown, and rose stiffly to sit on the bed beside her, stroking her hand.

“And that I still do not understand, ma petite. Why would you not tell me you were with child? Surely you must know that this news brings me much joy.”

The young queen’s cheeks coloured a little in embarrassment. “My Lord, in truth… I did not know. When your physician advised me today he lifted a great weight from me. Before she died my mother was often sick - I was so ill I thought that I must surely die soon. I could not bear to break your heart as mine broke when I saw my mother waste away. And so I thought best not to burden you.”

The king raised his eyebrows in pained surprise as he finally understood the reason for her secrecy.

“Oh poor child…” he murmured, swallowing hard. “The fault is mine and mine alone for you were much sheltered and I have not taught you as I should. Nor did I see what was right in front of my eyes, blinded as I was by your youth and my own demons. For that and for my abominable jealously I will chastise myself heartily. For now allow me to say unequivocally that you are _well_ , my lady, and have reached most glorious womanhood. Our child grows strong in your belly and these nine months hence you will bring forth our first born into the world. Rest in deepest assurance that you will be cared for and protected as the brightest jewel that ever graced my kingdom.”

The queen smiled softly. “You are most kind, my lord. And I am overwhelmed with pleasure to think that I will bear you the child that will secure peace for our beloved country.”

Raymond grasped her hand tightly and raised it to his lips, kissing her over and over.

“Dear heart. On this day I vow to devote my life to your happiness and that of our child. I will serve you and our country for as long as God grants me breath.”

With that the king bent down slowly and pressed his lips to hers, sealing his promise with a loving kiss.

* * *

**Epilogue**

 

Queen Elizabeth of England stood over the cradle in the palace nursery, staring adoringly down at their new born child. She smiled as she heard heavy footsteps behind her and allowed the king to embrace her gently. He pressed a kiss to her temple as was his habit, and joined her in gazing at the royal baby.

“And so England has a Prince of Wales” Raymond said, his voice resonant with pride. “Arthur will be as noble and chivalrous a leader as his namesake – a true man of justice who will keep the peace that we have begun.”

“That he will” the queen said, clasping her husband’s hand, “for his father is the best of men who will teach him well.”

“No king was ever more blessed than this” Raymond said in a low voice. “There was once a time when I thought myself lost. Everything I loved had been taken from me – the heat of battle and the thought of revenge was the only solace I could find. I never thought that I would be given the gift of a second chance of love and happiness. When I was sailing on a sea of grief I never dreamed that I would find my way home.”

“You are home, my king” the queen told him, turning to her husband with a radiant smile.

Raymond looked down at her lovely face, his eyes creased with pleasure and wonder. The girl’s beauty had grown magnificent, her eyes sparkling and her breasts full and round inside the bodice of her gown. Pregnancy had transported her to womanhood, though he wondered if, in her youth and innocence, she still had much to learn as queen.

“My lady” he said seriously then. “There is a matter on which I have hoped to consult you. You are aware that the ambassador of France was found responsible for plotting to discredit you, and that the blaggard Thomas Keen has these many months languished in our dungeon for his part in the scheme.”

The queen’s face clouded in unhappiness as he spoke. “Please do not mention the wretch’s name” she whispered. “I know not what transpired, only that my trust that a such man might be redeemed was sorely misplaced.”

Raymond looked down at her thoughtfully. “Keen has been found guilty and must be sentenced. Many months ago I put his fate in your hands, my lady. After much consideration, I have decided to do so again. You shall determine his fate.”

The young queen looked at him in surprise. “My lord, I wonder that you are not moved to devise his punishment yourself.”

“Oh I assure you I am” the king said darkly. “But he hath wronged you most of all. I wonder if you would make the same ruling as before?” he asked carefully. “Or if you have had a change of heart”.

The young queen’s expression hardened then, and Raymond thought that he had never seen her look so determined.

“If the decision is mine, then let it be heard: Thomas Keen will not live to see another dawn” she said, her voice low and resolute.

“And you are sure of your decision?” the king pressed quietly.

The young queen looked down at their baby son in his cradle and back to her husband, her beautiful eyes full of fire.

“He was given an opportunity to redeem himself and he squandered it most grievously. He has wounded us both, and threatened the very fabric of the peace we have built in England, the land which our son will one day rule. I will protect my family and my country with everything I am. Let it be known he is to be hanged before daybreak. And ensure he is aware on whose orders the deed is done.”

Raymond nodded solemnly. “It shall be done, my lady.”

He drew the young queen to him, holding her tightly in the knowledge that she had grown into a fierce young woman, a true queen ready to fight for that which she held dearest. He leant down and kissed her deeply, overcome with joy that she had brought peace not only to England, but to his heart.

 

The End


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